


No Future Without You

by lizardmm



Series: The Death of Magic [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comic)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 62,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizardmm/pseuds/lizardmm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers: BtVS season 8 and Angel: After the Fall season 6. With the scythe secure again, Buffy has stepped down and given Faith leadership of the group. Now it's up to Faith to lead the army of Slayers in the final battle against Twilight while continuing her secret relationship with the former Chosen One. But a final twist of Fate turns all of their worlds upside-down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginnings

****

**Faith’s POV**

I swear I’m gonna stop smokin’ one of these days. It just ain’t gonna be today.

I gotta say, Japan is surprisingly damp. It’s raining, or more accurately, misting, like some damn lawn sprinkler in a gated community. I’m standing outside the main Slayer compound, doing just one of the many things I do well – chain smoking. Yea, some day I’ll quit, ‘cause the pack I’ve been puffin’ through the past half an hour is doing nothin’ to calm my nerves. Time to find a new addiction.

I wish we had a lake, or at least some view of a body of water. Somehow it always settles me. I don’t know what it is…just being able to squish my toes in the sand and hear the gentle lapping of constant waves crashing on a shore. Don’t tell anyone though; it might ruin this tough-girl image I’ve worked so hard at building. Instead I’ve got a view of a skinny-assed Japanese forest and the constant squabbling of annoying newbie Slayers squawkin’ in the background.

I’ve been standing outside here in this light drizzle ever since my meeting with the original Scoobies. Fuck. I can’t believe she’s actually stepping down. I can’t believe I’m in charge. I mean, hell, in Sunnydale, that’s all I thought I wanted – to be The Slayer, to be the One Girl in All the World. Not to be playin’ second fuckin’ fiddle to the Great Buffy Summers. Careful what you wish for. Now I’m in charge of this wicked huge and powerful Slayer army – supposed to lead them to victory to end all evil, to end all magic, and therefore, to end the Slayer line. What the hell did I get myself into?

I wrap my arms around my body a little tighter, hoping to hold in some body heat. I’m gonna have to waterproof all my leathers. Or change my fashion style. “Fuck if that’s happening,” I snort to myself.

I’m guessing this is what it’s going to like at the castle in Scotland too – the main Slayer Headquarters – my new home? “Maybe I’ll never be warm again,” I shake my head. Just like a piece of driftwood – eternally soggy, but somehow still able to float on by. Okay, now I’m even starting to have ramble-y thoughts like her. I guess this is what happens when you’re suddenly the Big Boss – the slow and steady creeping of insanity.

I can feel her standing behind me. She thinks she’s stealthy, that I don’t realize she’s been standing there silently for the past few minutes, but I can always feel her. I could sense her presence getting closer even before she walked out on this balcony. It’s like this buzzing or humming sensation that tickles my spine and only grows more pronounced when she gets closer. Sometimes it’s so overpowering I have a hard time concentrating on what’s going on around me. I guess I should be happy then that she’s leaving.

She dropped a bombshell on all of us – first, giving me the steering wheel instead of one of the other Scoobs, and now telling us she’s leaving for Cleveland. Not a vacation either. Staying for good until we really need her, she says. I thought that was supposed to be my thing – running away when things get tough. The thought had never crossed my mind that she wouldn’t be a part of this battle – this final fight to once and for all destroy magic. Even when she turned the scythe over to me, I still thought she’d be hangin’ out, naggin’ me about all my decisions, making me second-guess myself.

It made a lot of sense when she brought it up last night. With me taking control of the group, it would unnecessarily complicate things. She didn’t want people to take sides. I need to get them all to trust me, the old Scoobs and the new Slayers. I need to convince them to let me lead them through this next, final battle. And she thinks with her around, it would only be more difficult.

And since she’s apparently made up her mind to leave for the States, there’s not much sense in us trying out a relationship either. I’ve never been a stable relationship kinda girl anyway, let alone trying to make things work when a fuckin’ ocean separates us. “Yea, it’s for the best,” I tell myself as I stomp on another wasted cigarette. Whatever. No time for love. Blah, fuckin’ blah.

I just wish she realized how impossible it’s going to be for me to just step in and take her place as leader of all of this. I never was much of a team player. Never was one for major plans and premeditated battles. But this is how it has to be, apparently. Plus whenever I look at Xander and Willow I know it’s gonna be a long road until they’ll trust me to not go all evil and psycho killer on them again. At least I’ve got Giles on my side finally. And apparently her too, not that it really matters since she’s leaving me – I mean leaving us.

I turn suddenly so I’m staring at her. She looks so fuckin’ perfect as usual in form-fitting jeans and a small zip-up hoodie over her tank top. Hell, Buffy could be wearin’ nothing but tinfoil and she’d still take my breath away. I just want to hold her, but I’m afraid of being so clingy, so touchy, especially with her leavin’ so soon and all. It’s not that I’m afraid of showing my cards to her. She knows how I feel, especially after last night. I just don’t want to get used to the feeling of her body so close to mine. It’ll only make it hurt more when she’s gone if I can’t stop thinking about the way her body molds into mine when I hold her in my arms.

I sigh, throwing my arms up. “I don’t see why we can’t just send one of the more experienced fighters to the Mistake by the Lake.” She doesn’t look surprised that I knew she was standing there. She knows I feel her ‘cause she can feel me too.

“Like…” I pause and go through a list of names in my head. “Kennedy!” I exclaim. “I’d love to ship that little brat back to a Hellmouth.” I cross my arms across my chest, pouting like the pampered brat that I seem to have suddenly turned into.

She smiles a small knowing smile. “You don’t want to risk that, Fai. You know that as well as me. Ken’s a package deal with Willow. If she was to get seriously injured or killed and Willow thinks it’s your fault…” she shakes her head slowly. “We need Wills on our side. Not Twilight’s.”

“But the Hellmouth’s not even open!” I protest, my voice rising a little. “It just needs a babysitter, not a real Slayer.”

Buffy’s frowning now, knowing I’m not gonna drop this easily. “Even if Ken got hit by a non-mystical bus in Cleveland, Willow would still blame you.”

I take a step closer, full knowing that the woman standing before me has the ability to destroy me with a look or a word. “Why are you suddenly so concerned about the witch’s love life?” I ask, perplexed. “I mean, sure Red’s your best bud and all, but when did that mean special treatment?”

A kind of sadness washes over her angelic features and I want to erase my question as soon as it escapes my stubborn mouth. She shoves her hands in her pockets and looks into the distance. “Before you came to Japan – before any of us came here,” she starts slowly. “Willow and I went on a mission to learn more about Twilight. It’s how we know that magic’s time is limited.”

She looks again at me and wets her lips. “There was a house – a kind of containment field for this mystical demon thingy, went by the name of Sephrilian, who had the power to make our secrets reveal themselves. Willow found out how we, uh, afford the things we do and I found out that – that…” she stutters a little on the final words, “that Willow blames me for Tara’s death.”

“What?!” I yell. If I was mellow and melancholy before, now I’m livid. “That’s fucked up, B. How the hell does she have the nerve to pin that on you?!” I’m steaming. I wanna punch something, anything, but more specifically a tarty little redhead.

“Shhh, hey…. calm down, okay?” She’s touching my face now with just the tips of her fingers, trying to get me to control my anger. It’s like an electric shock every time she touches me – like sticking your tongue on a 9-volt battery.

“She’s – she’s right in a messed up way,” she continues. “If I had stayed dead that whole thing with Warren would never have happened. Tara and Willow, they would have gotten you out of jail somehow to take my place and then they could have moved away from Sunnydale with Dawn to start a new life.”

I’m shaking my head and my body’s nearly shaking with anger. How dare that witch try to blame Tara’s death on Buffy. After all Buffy’s done for her and everyone else. Who needs enemies when you’ve got friends like that? “That’s madness, B, and you know it,” I try to tell her. “They would never have trusted me enough to bust me outta the pokey, let alone trust me to watch over the Hellmouth without them playin’ babysitter.”

She’s looking at the ground now, her voice little more than a soft murmur. “Maybe, but regardless. You can’t be taking chances with Kennedy’s life.”

I can’t understand her caution. I know she’s careful with all the newbie Slayer’s lives, not wanting to put any of them in unnecessary danger, but no one’s ever gotten such special consideration. “Why are you so afraid of Red?” I ask. “We’ve got an army of kick-ass girls with super-powers. She’s just one Wicca.”

“That demon,” she explains, looking up at me now with her big hazel-green eyes, “the one who revealed our secrets – he also showed us the future-“

“The future? Like flying cars and robots and the Jetsons?” I interrupt. I know I’m an ass, but I can’t help but want to lighten her mood. The look in her eyes is far too serious for me to feel comfortable.

“No, silly. Our futures. My future.” Buffy pauses. “And – and I was alone. And hurt. And scared.” She looks shaken, like she’s remembering how it felt all over again. “There was a woman who helped us there, who said I would be betrayed…the closest, most unexpected betrayal,” she breathes.

I’m staring now, my jaw a little slack. “You – you don’t think Red would actually turn on you, do you?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs. Her body looks heavy as if our conversation has placed a heavy weight on her shoulders. “If I hadn’t seen it once before…after Tara was killed, I would never ever entertain that thought. But you weren’t there, Fai.” Her voice is insistent and a little higher pitched than normal. I can physically see her body becoming more and more agitated as she remembers. “She tried to bury Dawnie and me. She – she had so much power. She tried to destroy the world. She hurt innocent people.”

“Aw, but who hasn’t tried that once or twice before,” I joke, trying unsuccessfully to keep the conversation light. I’m smiling wide so my dimples show. Oh yea, I know they’re irresistible; don’t think I don’t know how to use them to my advantage. Just like I know Buffy’s gotta practice that patented little half-smile thing she does that makes my stomach go all gooey. God, I’m such a sap sometimes.

She’s not smiling now though, so I get real quiet. It feels like a dark cloud has suddenly passed over us. A thought is stuck in my head and I can’t seem to shake it. “You don’t think that it’s me do you?” My voice comes out low and raspy. “You don’t think that maybe I’m the one who hurt you in that vision?”

Buffy opens her mouth like a feeding fish, but nothing comes out, so I fill in the words for her. “I’m just such a fuck up, B,” I rant. I start pacing a little on the balcony. “Everything good in my life always turns to shit. And I don’t think I could live with myself if I betrayed you again.” I stop pacing and look over at her, afraid of her reaction.

“Well then,” she clears her throat, almost business like. “The solution’s simple. Don’t hurt me.” She says the words as if it was the easiest concept in the world. I just nod somberly, my mind still a chaotic whirl of thoughts.

“How about New York, then?” I blurt out suddenly. “We’ve got a team there already; she could, like, be their squad leader or something.”

She’s laughing softly now and stepping closer, immediately increasing the buzzing in my body. “I can’t keep up with the course of your thoughts,” she says, poking me in the side. I don’t care how she touches me, just as long as she does. She coulda slapped me right across the face and I’d still be humming from her touch.

“Sorry, B,” I apologize and look at her sheepishly. “Ever since you handed over the reins it’s just been wicked busy inside.” I tap my forehead, clarifying my words. “I still don’t understand why you have to be the one to go to Cleveland, though. Why not a group of newbies?”

She rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed to still be talking about this. “You said it yourself, Faith; the Hellmouth’s not that active. You should pull the team that’s there now and redistribute them to other locations. Plus we should be using Robin more effectively.”

“Oh, I already used him,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows and grinning like a wolf.

“Stop it,” she frowns, almost whining. “You know what I mean.” She sticks out her bottom lip to form an easy pout and my heart flip-flops. “Besides, that’s disgusting. If you’re going to be sharing my bed, no talking about your past conquests.”

I kinda choke at her words, surprised I guess that she’s still talking about us sharing anything, let alone her bed. I don’t really know what to say in response, so I just do what my instincts are screaming at me to do and wrap my arms around her slender waist. I nuzzle her neck with my nose, silently praying to the gods that she doesn’t reject my advances.

“Aw, baby,” I tease. “You’re not jealous, are you?” I’m trying to play it cool even though she’s turned my insides into jelly. I should get points for not stumbling on the words.  
Go me.

“As if,” she scoffs. Her words say she’s annoyed with me, but she’s not doing anything to distance herself or pull away from my embrace. “I just know how little time we have left before I leave for Cleveland and I don’t want to waste it talking about you and Robin Wood.”

And that’s when she tilts her head up slightly and places the sweetest kiss on my stunned mouth. She pulls away and she’s licking her lips like she’s just devoured a tasty treat. Who am I to argue though? I am damn tasty.

“Lets not waste anymore time then, B,” I murmur before capturing her lips again with my own.

Definitely, go me. Oh yea.

I’ve kissed girls before, but kissing Buffy is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced or felt. Kissing Buffy is like eating cotton candy. You know when you eat a strand of the sugary stuff and it just melts on your lips and tongue without really any kind of pressure? Just, light as air, melting, vanishing and leaving something sweet and sugary in its place. And I’ve become addicted and want more.

The sound of heavy boots on the staircase alerts my senses, but I don’t want this kiss to end. With her leaving for Cleveland so soon, who knows when I’ll get another moment like this one. But, I also don’t want unnecessary rumors flying around the Slayer ranks, so I push Buffy slightly away, ending the kiss. Her face is a mixture of confusion and annoyance. I can tell she’s as breathless as I am though. I can almost hear her heartbeat thumping in her chest.

Don’t think I’m not without my own skills.

A sudden voice startles both of us: “Ms. Lehane, ma’am.”

I still gotta get used to the formality of these Slayer troops. These girls certainly aren’t here to have pillow fights and braid each other’s hair – they’re all about the mission. Kinda makes me feel guilty for how…unorthodox I behaved in my Sunnydale days.

I silently vow in that moment to make a better effort to learn the names of the new girls. If I’m gonna ask them to sacrifice their lives and trust my leadership, the least I can do is give them one of my patented nicknames, no matter how unoriginal.

The girl is standing all at attention, her body stiff and rigid. “Here’s the phone number you requested, ma’am,” she reports.

I try to not look alarmed at being called “ma’am,” so I wordlessly nod, taking the slip of paper from this nameless Slayer and dismiss her with a wave of my hand. I look over at Buffy and can tell she’s kind of grateful that I had the sense to end the kiss when I did. Fuck, I wanna go back to exploring her mouth; but I gotta take care of something first. I pull my cell phone outta my impossibly tight pants and flip it open.

“Are you sure you want to call him?” Buffy asks me softly, keeping her distance. “I just mean with everything that’s happened between the two of you….”

“I know it’s a messed up situation,” I agree, nodding my head. “But…but a part of me is like it has to be him. Like the PTBs would smile down on the irony of it all.” I rake my fingers through my hair. Nervous habit, I guess.

She’s crossing her arms and looking at me like I fell off the short bus. “I don’t think the Powers-That-Be are talking to him much anymore,” she reminds me.

“True that,” I answer, “but he’s still one of the Good Guys, right?” My voice is tinged with something that resembles hope. Fuck, I really hope he’s not working for the other side.

Buffy just shrugs noncommittally, but I know me calling him is eatin’ her up on the inside. The Scoobs had been so busy with their own paltry world-domination and finding all the newly called Slayers, that they’d lost touch with everyone outside of their intimate circle. Hell, I’m proof of that.

They had their heads shoved so far up their…well, you get the picture…they didn’t even know what had happened to Los Angeles until one of them suggested asking the LA gang to help out when the scythe was stolen. I mean, I can’t really blame them too much for their ignorance. It’s not like there was a major news bulletin announcing that the city had been sucked into Hell. But, damn it, of all the people in the world, shouldn’t we be up on that gossip? Seems to me like it’s a pretty big deal when the 2nd largest city in the States suddenly goes missing.

When I asked our coven to track down his number so I could ask him to help us, nearly all the Scoobies balked at my idea. Buffy stayed silent on the issue as usual – she hasn’t been offering up too many official opinions since giving me control of the group; Xander never really liked Angel to begin with so opening up any kind of communication with the LA gang seemed dubious in his view; and Willow…Willow I think she just was pissed cause I was the one who came up with the idea.

Tough. I’m the Chosen One. I’ve got the scythe to prove it.

I take a deep breath to steady myself and dial the number printed on the slip of paper. With each ring, my stomach is tying itself into more and more knots. After all that’s happened, I can’t quite believe I’m actually going to ask him to help us. Hell, I don’t even know if he can.

Buffy looks at me, gesturing that she’ll leave me if I want her to, but I hold up a hand and mouth for her to stay. I’m hoping this won’t take that long.

I kinda wish I had taken up Red on her offer to fly me so the meeting could happen face-to-face rather than over the phone. But, where he’s at….not exactly Disneyland. Or wait, maybe it is? Oh man, maybe the “Happiest Place on Earth” is now the “Helliest Place on Earth.” Oh, irony, how I’ve missed you.

Anyway, I think I’ll ease myself slowly into the whole “Willow Express” thing. I know girlfriend is all like zippin’ around in the air and shit, but maybe I’ll just have her enchant a magic carpet or something for me. But it woulda been hella sweet to see the look on his face when I tell him that I’m in charge now.

Wait. I wonder if he even has a face?

The ringing suddenly stops, breaking my train of thought and I hear the receiver click as the phone across the globe is finally answered. “Hello?” The voice is curt and businesslike.

“Aw shit, man,” I laugh, nervously running my fingers through my hair. “I was worried you’d be sleeping with the wicked time difference. Sorry, I guess I don’t even know if you can sleep. Wait, was that just rude of me to say that? Sorry, dude. My bad.” Damn, did I just channel Red? Cause I’m babbling like a river.

The male voice on the other side coughs and releases a strangled noise of surprise.

“Faith? Good heavens….is that you?” the voice squeaks.

I feel myself grinning and despite my nerves, I’m falling back into my cocky and self-assured attitude.

“The one and only, Wes.”

He’s not saying anything; still stunned I suppose to hear my voice, so I make with the idle chit-chat ‘cause I’m not really sure how to ask for his help yet.

“So, I guess ghosts have telephone numbers?” I ask cheekily.

“Well, Wolfram & Hart’s bloody standard perpetuity clause may keep me without a solid body, but they do have a decent wireless plan,” Wes states very matter of fact. “Plus, the phones are somehow working now that the City Lords have been defeated.”

“So you guys really are in Hell? As in the Hell?” I ask a little too over-eagerly cause of my nerves. “The big hot Jacuzzi of Evil?”

“You always did have a way with words, Faith,” Wes chuckles kinda uptight-like. “But I’m guessing this unexpected call is business rather than catch-up time.” He pauses. “We hadn’t heard from your group in a while.”

I inwardly groan at the reminder. I’d hoped he wouldn’t point out the blindingly obvious fact that the former Sunnydale group had all but abandoned them in LA. “Well, it wasn’t really my group,” I explain, almost apologetically. “I was watching over the Hellmouth in Cleveland until Giles recruited me for some wet works. Everyone else was kinda camped out in Scotland.”

“Yes, how is Rupert?” he asks. I’m not sure if he’s asking cause he’s interested or just being polite.

“Alive…so better than you, I guess,” I shrug.

“Touché.”

“Anyway, Wes. That’s why I’m callin’…” I take a deep breath and plunge into my carefully practiced speech. “Listen, I know you and I haven’t exactly seen eye-to-eye in the past…but…uh…I need your help with something.”

“I’m listening,” he replies cautiously.

“Buffy’s retiring and I’m taking over the Slayers –” I start, but am immediately interrupted by Wesley nearly as soon as the words escape my lips.

“Good Lord,” he exclaims.

I sigh, frowning at his knee-jerk reaction. “Yea, you and me both.”

I flash a look over at Buffy. It’s the first time I’ve actually said the phrase aloud and it feels funny on my tongue. Buffy’s retiring. She doesn’t really react at my words; she’s just kinda hugging herself, trying to stay warm with it being all drizzly out. Damn, she’s all kinds of beautiful.

Wesley sounds flustered and very British on the other line. “I just meant that – oh bullocks. I’m sorry, that was totally uncalled for. You’re going to be an excellent leader, Faith.” He almost sounds genuine.

“Yea, yea…save it for my eulogy,” I brush him off, moving on. “So anyway, Wes. With me taking over the group, I need someone – someone I can trust – to take care of all the mini-me’s out there.”

“Come again?” he asks.

I kinda chuckle darkly. “Let’s just say that some of the girls who were Called make the Old Faith look like a friggin’ saint.”

“Oh, I see…” he states slowly before pausing again, thinking about my words obviously. I’m sure if he weren’t already dead he’d be totally freaked. “And just what do you mean when you say ‘take care of’?” he asks suspiciously.

I wanna tell him everything. I wanna tell him about the thirty-seven Slayers I’ve had to kill over the past few months. I wanna tell him that I see their faces when I sleep. But I don’t. He’s not my Watcher anymore. Never was much of a Watcher in the first place.

“We take away their powers,” I answer. “Simple as that.” If only it were really that simple. “Our seers are still working to locate all the Called girls. We’re not always that speedy in trackin’ them down, and sometimes these newly amped up chicks aren’t playing nice now that they’ve got these super powers. I need someone to take over for me and talk them into joining our side. That’s where you’d come in. And on the plus side, since you’re all I-have-no-body now, we save money on airfare.”

“And if they refuse?” Yea, he still thinks I’m a murderer. But he’s right.

“If they refuse, then I have Red – I mean Willow remove their super-powers.”

Wes’s voice suddenly becomes animated. “You’ve found a way to take away their powers?”

I hesitate a bit, letting his question swim in my head for a moment. I want to trust him, but something is telling me to withhold certain information.

“Wes, I know you’re like the middle-man between Angel and that evil law-firm…” I’m weighing my words carefully. “But – but are you still on our side?”

I can hear Wesley sigh heavily into the phone. “I’m not always the one calling the shots, I’m afraid.”

My heart sinks in my stomach a little. I really want to trust him, despite what I know about his contract with Wolfram & Hart. I wanted Wesley to be the one to save these girls …since….since he couldn’t save me. I haven’t really gotten over the fact that he called the Watcher’s Council on me after Allan Finch. And I sure as hell know he’s still touchy about that whole me torturing him thing. I had this crazy thought that if he was able to help rehabilitate some rogue Slayers, he and I could finally forgive each other, fighting on the same side. But if something evil is pulling his strings, there’s no way I’m gonna risk the Slayer line like that. I’ll just have to find someone else to help.

“Listen, Faith.” Wes’s voice jolts me back to the phone call. “Give me a little time and I’ll get back to you about this. We’re still trying to figure out how to reunite me with my body and…there’s this little matter of Los Angeles being in Hell, of course. But I promise we’ll figure it out.” He pauses, obviously planning his next words carefully. “Faith, I won’t let you down like I did in Sunnydale.”

“Alright, Wes. Thanks.” I flip my phone closed, ending the call. Buffy’s looking at me with her eyebrows raised, expecting me to spill about our conversation, no doubt.

I look at her and shake my head. “Guess this is gonna be harder than I expected,” I admit.

B doesn’t say anything – doesn’t judge me or give me pity. She just nods in agreement. She knows better than anyone the tough decisions a leader has to make. I guess I’m just starting to figure out and appreciate what life has been like for her all these years.

When you’re the one on top, you’re the one with the farthest to fall.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

TBC


	2. Not in Kansas Anymore

**Faith’s POV**

 _Lyrics to “The Kill” by The Dresden Dolls_

There’s no place like home….er...castle?

Okay, so I can’t say I was sad to bid sayonara to Tokyo. Left behind a group though with some of the older slay girls from Sunnydale days to keep the youngins in line. They still don’t have their Slayer strength back yet, so they’ve been instructed to lay low until they get recharged. Which means they’re probably doing saki bombs or something, now that I think about it. Guess next time I should be more specific.

Red wanted to wait until we got back to Scotland to do her mojo with the scythe to restore everyone’s powers. She said she felt more comfortable doing a big spell like that back on home turf. I didn’t complain though cause I want this thing done right. I certainly don’t need zombie slayer girls roaming the globe or something.

That damn girlfriend of hers sure did complain though – wouldn’t shut up the entire flight back to Scotland, itchin’ to get her strength back. Geez, she’s an effin’ brat; I can’t understand how Red’s put up with that for so long. Believe me, if I could selectively choose the Chosen Ones based on personalities, Kennedy so would not be on my list.

Our caravan arrived at Scotland HQ about an hour after landing. Willow coulda teleported us all, but I wanted her to save her strength for the scythe. Wicked spell like that’s gotta take some juice, ya know? So I only had her zap our giantess in residence, also known as Dawn, back to the castle. ‘Sides, who knew we had a private jet? When I asked B where all the money was coming from, her face got really red and she mumbled something about telling me later. I gotta remember to ask her how come the Kid got so big too. Seriously. A teenager that size is just not right.

So now we’re back in Scotland – Slayer central. For being a castle, this joint’s pretty high-tech. I walked through the giant wooden front doors expecting it to be all Dungeons and Dragons inside, but I gotta admit this place is pretty pimp. The Great Hall’s been converted into slayer-command central. We’ve got slay girls and Wiccas all over the place keeping in contact with our squads around the globe.

Xand-man’s all like big and in charge down there; the newbies even call him “Mr. Harris.” Can’t lie…I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing when I heard one of the girls call him that the first time. ‘Course he didn’t show me the same restraint when they called me “Ms. Lehane.” I really gotta do somethin’ about that… cause honestly, “Ms. Lehane”? At least no one ever called Mom that; never earned herself enough respect to be putting a “Ms.” in front of “Gutter-trash.” Sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess. I shouldn’t be dwelling on the past when the future’s so…fucked up too?

Anyway, the castle’s totally posh. Decked out bedrooms for us big wigs and the junior slay-crew’s got some nice bunks too. Plus we have the biggest damn kitchen I’ve ever seen. ‘Course with all these super-chicks, I bet half the budget goes toward keeping them fed. It makes me a little bitter, thinking about B and all the Scoobs living large here in Scotland while I slummed in Cleveland. But yea, not thinking about the past anymore.

We’ve been on the ground for a few hours now, but all I’ve wanted to do since I got to the castle was take a long, hot shower. Well…can’t say that’s all I wanted to do; but B’s making a big deal about needing to pack up her stuff for the big move to Ohio, so I guess I gotta play nice for a few more hours.

After the Xand-man gave me a quick tour of the place, I grabbed a towel and my iPod and tromped my way into one of these badass castle bathrooms. They’ve got these killer sound systems in the bathrooms – plug in your iPod and you’re good to go. Got it all set up, my play-list primed. It’s just my music, the water, and me now. It’s pretty much the only thing that kept me sane when I was working with Giles. That feels like a lifetime ago now though.

I’ve always done my best thinking in the shower, even when I was shacked up in some dump of a motel like back in Sunnyhell. Cause then, at least when the hot water was cascading down, I could feel clean, if only for a few moments. And I’d emerge, all shiny and new. Something tells me I’m gonna be takin’ a lot of showers here too.

Jesus, it’s like a goddamn shampoo store in this shower or something. Too many girls under one roof is just not natural. I take a chance with a green bottle, sniffing it first to make sure it’s not too girlie or smells like haggis or something. Not bad – orange blossoms or something citrusy. My arms raised, I lather up my hair, my fingers massaging the soap into my scalp. I can feel all the tension and anxiety that’s been building up over these past few chaotic days melt away with each drop of water that falls down on me.

And then I hear the opening piano notes echoing through the speakers and I can’t help but smile a little. Oh, yea…this is my jam.

 _I am an anarchist  
An anti-Christ  
An asterisk_

 _I am an anorak  
An acolyte  
An accidental_

 _I am eleven feet  
Okay, eight  
Six foot three  
I fought the British and I won._

I close my eyes and bob my head a little bit to the beat as the song picks up, drums joining the strained vocals and gentle piano. The words are getting edgier and more desperate as the song continues. And fuck if I can’t help but sing along.

 _I am a rocket ship  
A jetfighter  
A paper airplane_

 _Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah_

 _Say what you will  
I am the Kill  
The only thing that keeps you  
really truly safe from being real_

I wash the shampoo from my hair, trying not to sputter or get a mouthful of soap as I keep singing under the water. I let the lyrics fall over my naked form along with the shower’s spray.

 _I have a tendency  
to exaggerate  
just a little bit_

 _I am a plagiarist  
Apologist  
A walrus-cokehead-lizard_

I’m jumping a little on the balls of my feet, careful not to slip and fall. “Try explaining that to the group,” I smirk to myself. “Oh, this wicked bruise? Yeah…fell in the shower.” Smooth, Lehane, smooth.

 _I am an optimist  
A closet misogynist  
I fought the British and I won_

 _I have a wishing well  
A living will  
A magical eight ball_

I run some conditioner through my hair, using my fingers like a wide toothed comb. Silky tendrils? Check. Loofa, loofa…so many loofas. Who the hell named this sponge thing a “loofa” anyway? Hell yea, this is my favorite part. I pump my fist in the air along with the beat.

 _Say what you will  
I am the Kill.  
The only thing that keeps you  
really truly safe from being real._

 _Put Pat Sajak back in office  
Put Pat Sajak back in office_

I grab a shampoo bottle and start using it as a microphone as the song’s last stanzas blast through the bathroom speakers.

 _But the sun still sets on you  
And the retarded party nobody came to but you  
And so you drink to all the emptiness until you wake up  
And there's hell to pay again_

 _And the punch lines point at you  
And all the comebacks in the world are in your head  
And you can't say them until everybody leaves  
And it's just you and your imaginary friends…_

I turn the shower off as the song comes to end. Humming along with the next tune on my playlist, I ring out my hair and run my hands along my naked limbs, squeegee-ing away the excess water. When I pull open the shower curtain, a noise that I can only describe as a “yelp” escapes my throat when I’m surprised to find Buffy standing there holding onto my bath towel.

She snickers at my expense, no doubt proud that she’s finally snuck up on me. And what a time to sneak up on me, too – I’m sure my cheeks would be 100 different shades of red if they weren’t already flushed from the steamy shower.

“Sorry, Slayer. Did I scare you?” she asks, a smug smile on her beautiful face. She chuckles at my music choice. “ ‘Put Pat Sajack back in office’, huh?”

“Don’t ask me,” I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. I roughly grab the towel out of her hands and step out of the shower and onto the bathmat. God, she must think I’m such a dweeb.

“I just like her voice,” I insist, trying to downplay the fact that Buffy just caught me singing in the shower. “Plus she’s a hometown girl.”

I bend at the waist and start toweling off my hair, not bothering to cover my naked body. I can tell she’s having a hard time not gawking at the view and it makes me smile just a little as I feel her stare. Can’t blame the girl; I am quite the sight. What I don’t expect though is to be pushed up against the cold tile wall and suddenly feel a hot mouth biting down on the top of my bare shoulder.

My eyes roll back in my head from the sensations. A low moan escapes my lips from the combination of the cold tile on my back, her warm mouth on my shoulder, and her sharp teeth almost breaking the skin. “Fuck, B,” I rasp.

She looks up at me from underneath those thick eyelashes and I swear an army of butterflies just assaulted my stomach. “That’s kinda the plan, F,” she smiles coyly.

Her hand is instantly between my bare legs and I automatically spread them just a little wider, letting her know subtly that I’m game for whatever she’s got planned. She cups my naked sex and I release a guttural moan.

“God, B. Uhn…what if – what if,” I pant, trying hard to keep my cool as she starts rubbing my clit in a circular motion, “what if someone hears us?”

She’s pressing into my sex now, two fingers just barely inside me, not even to the first knuckle and all I wanna do is lower myself completely onto her slender digits and surrender myself to her. I’m not usually a bottom, but I’d totally let this woman dominate me.

She’s grinning devilishly cause she knows how wicked cruel she’s being. “Castles. Thick walls,” she says simply.

To my great disappointment, she pulls her hand away from my core, but now she’s kissing and licking the water droplets off my skin like she’s been wandering ‘round a desert all her life. Her tongue is working at my right nipple, flicking the bud back and forth with just the tip and just barely scraping her teeth across the surface skin. I wanna just hold her head there and enjoy the sensations, but I know she’s got other plans in mind.

She slides down my body, her tongue continuing to capture random water droplets left over from my shower. I suck in a breath, worried she’s gonna pause and make a big deal about my scar and ruin this moment. But rather than dwell on the past, she bypasses that physical reminder of a now-ancient betrayal and dips her tongue into the shallow of my belly button, forcing me to moan a little. I’ve always been sensitive there; I can’t explain it, but it’s like she knows my body as well as I do. Oh fuck…and she keeps moving lower and I can’t help but hold my breath in anticipation of what she’s gonna do next.

She’s on her knees now in front of me, breathing warm air on my shaved pussy, eyeballing it like she’s gonna devour me whole. And then she does. With no warning, she pushes her long tongue inside and begins fucking me with her tongue, clenching onto my strong thighs with either hand. She’s holding my thighs so tightly, it feels like she’s gonna brand her fingerprints on my skin, but hell if I care.

Sweet Jesus…every time she bottoms out, her nose bumps deliciously into my throbbing clit, sending waves of pleasure through my body. And the biggest turn on of them all…she’s making these little sighs and grunts that tell me she’s fucking loving this as much as me.

This has got to be Heaven. Buffy fuckin’ Summers is in front of me, on her knees, and fuck if I don’t want to just grab her by the ears and have my way with her talented little mouth. I wanna hold her face there and tell her all the dirty thoughts streaming through my mind. I wanna tell her every single naughty thing I want to do with that tight body of hers; but I amaze myself and show some restraint, only tugging on her blonde locks a little. She looks up at me with those big ‘ol hazel eyes and they kind of narrow when I pull on her hair. I can’t tell if she’s pissed off or turned on, but she’s suddenly piston-ing her tongue in and out of me like she’s on a mission.

I can feel myself getting closer and closer to crashing over the edge with every thrust of her tongue. I’m losing control, about to come, when she pulls her tongue out, and I groan immediately at the loss of contact. She moves to gently suck on my clit, rolling the tiny bud of flesh around with her tongue while lazily tracing her fingers around my outer lips. I can’t take much more of this teasing. I need to get off. The first time with B was all gentle and tender and hesitant exploring, but she’s worked me up so badly that I need to cum and I’m in no mood to wait.

She’s gently tonguing my clit and as much as it feels amazing, I need her inside me. Now. I gently pull her up by her shoulders and off of her knees. Her eyes are clouded with confusion and I know she’s frustrated that I made her stop, but I know it couldn’t have been very comfortable down there with the bathmat as her only cushioning. Not proud of it, but I’ve spent a fair share of time on my own knees in the past.

I grab her right hand in my own, the same hand that was lazily tracing my sex while she sucked on my clit. I pull her hand up and her eyes glaze over with need as she watches me take her middle and forefinger into my mouth. I start sucking gently on her digits and I can hear her breath become ragged. I roll my tongue around her two fingers, saturating them in my saliva.

I remove her fingers from my mouth and trail them down the length of my body, down my neck, hesitating briefly at my breasts to play with my hard nipples, down my flat stomach following the curve of my hip, and then take a detour directly to my pussy. Buffy’s breathing becomes more labored the closer I drag her fingers to my dripping core.

I place her two fingers at the entrance of my sex and push them slowly inside me, moaning as she penetrates me, letting her know right away how turned on and wet I am for her. She closes her eyes for a moment; I can tell the intensity of sensations is making her dizzy, cause it’s doing the same thing to me. But then she’s back in control and pushing hard up inside me so that my breath hitches in my throat. Fuck she feels so right. This is how it was always meant to be.

“B-Buffy,” I stammer. “I don’t think I can…st-standing up,” I stumble, my tongue seemingly tied in knots. She gets what I’m trying to say though and deftly maneuvers us so she can ease me onto the bathroom floor, her fingers never leaving my center.

She lies down on top of me, resting her slight weight fully on my naked body. She’s still fully clothed, but somehow it’s turning me on even more, having her take me like this unexpectedly. The material is rubbing roughly against my sensitive nipples, causing all kinds of goodness to surge through my core. I know her clothes will be off soon enough though.

++++++++++++++

I’m having a hard time staying awake – my eyelids keep threatening to flutter shut, but damn…between the hot shower and the mind-numbing sex, my body is so relaxed and content, I could totally pass out right here. We’re laying naked on the bathroom floor together, the bathmat our mattress, a towel our comforter. Not exactly the coziest place for pillow talk, but I’ll take what the Fates hand me.

“So was that your plan all along?” I ask, smiling cockily.

Buffy bats her thick eyelashes innocently and cuddles a little deeper into my arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she responds.

I give her a knowing smile. “So taking advantage of me in the shower was totally not on your agenda?”

“Oh!” she chirps, sitting up a little as if suddenly remembering something. “Well, actually I came to tell you that Dawn’s all normal-sized now.”

“For real?” I prop myself up on an elbow. “That’s wicked. Can’t say I liked the idea of having a giant teenager tromping all over the grounds.”

“Well…” she hesitates, “she’s normal-sized….ish.”

I raise a carefully manicured eyebrow. “Ish?”

Buffy laughs. “She’s uh, I think Xander said, a centaur?”

I shake my head in disbelief, smirking “God, this just gets better and better, doesn’t it?”

Her eyes are gleaming with elder-sister mischief and a huge smile is spread across her face. “You should see the size of her ass,” she rants. “I seriously couldn’t stop laughing.”

“Ouch, B. That’s harsh.” I can’t help but chuckle myself though.

A wicked thought pops into my mind. “Hey, B. I’ve got a wild idea.”

She opens her mouth, looking a little overwhelmed. “More wild than what we just did? Cause I’m all kinds of sore and I don’t know if I can –”

I laugh huskily, interrupting her. “Damn, B. One roll in the hay and you’re all gutter-mind-girl.”

She flicks my nipple lightly in response and sticks out her tongue.

“Hey!” I protest, covering myself. “Careful with the goodies!”

Her mouth twists into a wry smile. “Anyway,” she prods me, her voice tinged with fake annoyance. “What’s this wild thing you want to do?”

I grin mischievously before continuing. “Before your flight in the morning, let’s go out with a bang.”

She cocks an eyebrow and lets her gaze rake over my barely covered body again. “I’m listening…” she murmurs.

God, now she’s just lazily playing with my exposed nipple and I seriously want to attack her again. Form words. Move mouth. That’s it, Lehane; you can do it. I swallow hard, trying to concentrate on my train of thought and not on the tiny electrical sparks that are shooting through my body. I swear it’s like my nipples and my clit are directly connected.

“Let’s have Red juice up the Potentials tonight and we take a group and go kick some demon ass,” I suggest eagerly. “There’s gotta be some nest or crypt or something that you’ve been itchin’ to get. Annnnd,” I continue, “let’s do it old school. None of those commando suits or recon or high tech communication. Just Slayers and stakes. Whaddya say?”

A dreamy smile spreads across her face. It starts just at the corners of her mouth until slowly it’s a full-wattage Buffy Summer’s smile. “I know just the place,” she purrs.

+++++++++++++

 _Suggested listening: Everclear - “Local God”_

The front door of the local demon bar splintered open with an abrupt crash.

“Hey boys,” the blonde slayer purred, sauntering through the bar’s now-broken entrance.

A handful of demons near the front door scrambled to their feet and stared hard at the slight intruder. None of them could believe that such a tiny body had produced so much damage.

A brunette leather-clad figure gracefully strode in behind the other woman and took her position next to her, lazily tossing her arm around the smaller slayer’s shoulders. “Guess who’s back from vacation?” the raven-haired beauty quipped with a grin.

A large demon with four arms and a menacing set of teeth stood up from its seat at the bar and slammed its drink down on the tabletop. “Slayers,” it growled, a one worded challenge.

“Good,” Buffy mocked, her stake tight in her right hand, her body poised and rigid in a fighting stance. “You’ve been paying attention.”

A skittish vampire tried to sneak out the front door, but without looking, the Boston-born slayer thrust a stake behind her, smiling at the satisfying ‘poof’.

Reaching out, the brunette grabbed a scrawny-looking vampire. Clutching its throat, she lifted the undead creature completely off the ground using only one arm. The monster struggled and wiggled in the air uselessly, clawing at her tightening fingers.

“Seriously,” she muttered, her tone dripping with disappointment. “I remember this being a little more challenging.” She tossed the vampire onto a wooden table, shattering the piece of furniture on impact. The undead creature landed unceremoniously on a jagged wooden edge, piercing its un-beating heart and exploding into dust.

“Nice aim, Slayer. You been practicing?” admired the small blonde.

Faith laughed darkly. “So listen up,” she growled. “The Good Guys are under new management. And this time…you’re all going down.”

A dozen other girls, all wielding weapons, suddenly rushed into the bar, spilling into the corners of the dank room. The demons in the room stood from their seats and nervously eyeballed this new group of invaders.

“Get ‘em girls,” the recently appointed Chosen One instructed. “Kill them all.”

Without much fanfare, the well-disciplined group of young slayers picked off the vampires and assortment of demons one by one, sparing none. Within a few minutes, the bar was wasted, furniture destroyed, demon bodies piled on the floor. When the carnage had come to an end, Buffy brushed the vampire dust from the cotton material of her seemingly slaying-incompatible skirt

“So,” she cheerfully bubbled, tucking a stray strand of blonde behind her ear, “who’s up for some dancing?”

The taller brunette smiled knowingly at the slender girl. “It’s like the woman can read my mind,” she mused to herself.

++++++++++++++++++++++

 **POV Faith**

Well, it’s not the Bronze, but it’s the best Scotland can do. We’ve basically taken over the club with our posse – nothing but horny teenaged slayers and open-minded Wicca’s dancing up a storm on the dance floor. Willow even conjured up some kinda glamour so Dawnie could enjoy a much-needed night out without anyone seeing her giant horse-ass. It’s still there of course, just invisible, and hilarious as all hell when someone runs into it like an invisible wall or when Dawn makes too sharp of a turn and ends up knocking over a table and chairs. Still, even horse-girl deserves to blow off a little steam. It can’t be easy being ginormous one minute and half-horse the next. I’m keeping my distance just the same – don’t know if she’s contagious and I sure as hell don’t wanna be growing a tail.

I’m in the center of the dance floor, shaking my hips, letting the throbbing base of the dance beat pulse through my body. It feels good to let go again and even better knowing that a certain blonde is dancing dangerously near. I reach out and lightly grab onto her swaying hips, pulling her just a little closer. “Just like old times, huh, B?” I grin, showing off my dimples.

“No,” she smiles, trailing her fingertips down my arms, sending delicious chills up my spine. “Better.”

All I can do is smile back at her, my words momentarily lost. I don’t know what it is about this woman that makes me turn into a brainless twit, but she’s made me speechless more times than I can remember these past few days.

She leans in to whisper in my ear. “I’m going to the bathroom. Follow me in two minutes.” Before she leans back, she bites my earlobe lightly, making me groan softly and bite my own lower lip. Without another word or look, she spins on her heels and strides off toward the restrooms.

Good Lord, what is she doing to me? I try to shake off the wave of desire that’s suddenly flushed my body and attempt to continue dancing as though B had never been there. But failing miserably, I give up on dancing and make a beeline for the bar. I order a shot of liquid courage from the non-descript bartender and waste no time slamming the drink. I savor the soothing and familiar burn as the fire-y liquid scorches my throat and finally make my way towards the women’s restroom and the unexpected.

I open the bathroom door cautiously, nervous about what awaits me on the other side. By all appearances, the small bathroom looks empty – no one at the twin sinks, no one in any of the three stalls – until I see a pair of stylish-but-affordable boots under the far left stall.

“B?” I call out hesitantly, my voice echoing slightly in the tiled room.

“What took you so long, Slayer? Thought maybe you got cold feet.”

I walk toward the sound of the voice, my heavy boots clicking on the floor. Pushing open the stall door, I’m greeted by a very smug-looking Buffy standing with her arms crossed. “Ain’t nothing cold about me, baby,” I reply, smiling back at the blonde. I know there’s some quip in there about her dead boyfriends, but I resist the temptation and bite my tongue instead. No way I’m gonna bring up the past and screw this up now. I close the stall door behind me and lock it, not wanting to be interrupted.

In a flash I’ve got her skirt bunched up around her waist and my hand is dipping into the elastic band of her barely-there panties. She gasps audibly at my unexpected advances and I smile, relishing the control and the fact that I can make her feel this way.

“Shoulda gone without, B. Woulda made my job a helluva lot easier,” I smirk, feeling her wetness as my fingers begin to explore her soft folds. She moans in my ear, encouraging me on and I deftly slide two fingers inside her hot core, feeling her velvety skin swallowing me whole. God, I can never get enough of this feeling, this connection.

The sounds of the main bathroom door squeaking open suddenly still my fingers inside of Buffy as a handful of slayers spill into the bathroom, giggling and talking loudly. I flex my fingers inside B, and her eyes go wide, as if she’s suddenly realizing I’m not going to stop even if we have an audience. Most of the girls sound drunk or at least buzzed, but despite their inebriated state, I don’t want to risk getting caught. But I can’t stop fucking this woman either.

I grab Buffy’s bare thigh with one hand, the other still buried deep inside her. She seems to understand what I’m trying to do and instinctively wraps her legs around my waist, her feet now lifted off the ground giving the appearance of only one set of boots in the bathroom stall. Because of her action, however, I’m forced deeper inside her and she grunts a little; but the boozed-up slayers are laughing and talking so loudly that Buffy could be screaming her head off and they wouldn’t be aware.

I’m thrusting deep and hard into Buffy now, wild with lust. She’s biting her quivering bottom lip, her eyes closed tight. I can feel the sweat trickling down the small of my back as I work my body to its limits. Public sex has always been a total turn-on for me; public sex with Buffy is an all-out frenzy. I can tell she’s doing the best she can to not scream out loud, and I know I should stop before she cums and we risk getting caught, but I’m too far-gone to care. The only thing that exists now is the feeling of Buffy wrapped so tight around my fingers that I think she’s gonna break them off of my hand.

The giggly pack of slayers thankfully exits the bathroom after a few minutes, leaving B and I alone once again. As soon as the bathroom door slams closed, Buffy unleashes a primal moan that stirs the Slayer within me. She’s grunting with each thrust of my hand, her boots digging into my back, clinging to me. I’ve never wanted something so much in all my life as to possess her – make her realize that it’s me who’s making her feel like this. And then I feel her walls clench impossibly tighter around my fingers as an intense orgasm surges through her body.

When the pulsing subsides, I ease my saturated fingers carefully out of her sex and gently kiss and lick away the perspiration that’s formed on her neck and deliciously defined collarbone. I slowly lower her feet back down to the floor, grounding this blonde angel once again and I hold her gently shaking body until her heartbeat returns to its normal lub-dubbing and her breathing gets under her control again.

I bury my face into her neck, inhaling the mixture of her flowery shampoo and the salty tang of her sweat. I know I don’t have to say it; I know she can feel it, but I want her to know that this isn’t just some wild bathroom tryst for me. I look deep into her pooling eyes and gently push a sweaty golden lock behind her left ear. “I love you, Buffy.”

She doesn’t say a word, though. She just smiles and kisses me tenderly, letting me know that she isn’t ready.

++++++++++++++  
TBC


	3. The Yellow Dress

**POV Faith**

She’s leaving tomorrow for Cleveland.

When we got back to the castle after dragging our Slayers home from the club, she offered me her bed for one more night together. And I refused. Her eyes looked hurt that I’d turned her down, but damn if I’m gonna get used to being snuggly and cozy with her right before she leaves. It’s gonna be hard enough going cold turkey considering all that’s happened the past few days.

Damn, it just completely blows my mind how massively things have changed in just under a week. We got the scythe back from the Japanese vamps. Buffy killed Satsu and named me the Chosen One. Then I totally spilled my guts on her bedroom floor and she didn’t mind. Plus all the mind-blowing orgasms? Wow. If you woulda told me that even one of those things would be happening in my immediate future, I woulda cold-cocked ya for lying to my face. But it’s all completely real; this is my new life.

I just wish I knew if she had room in her new life for me.

+++++++++++++++++++

“Dawn! Where the hell is my blue sweater!” Buffy’s voice echoed down the long corridor in the castle.

“Oh sure,” the former Key mumbled, her hoofs clacking on the stone floor as she went to help her sister finish up packing. “Blame the girl with the giant ass.”

Buffy’s flight wasn’t until later that evening, but Giles had insisted that the Cleveland-bound-Slayer finish packing early and get to the airport with a few hours to spare.

The teenager raised her voice, “What would I be doing with your sweater, Buffy? Let’s not forget that, uh, first I was a giant, and now I’m the amazing horse woman.”

Buffy poked her head out of her bedroom and looked at her sister with a mischievous smile on her face. “Don’t get grumpy, Dawnie. It’s not my fault you’re all My-Friend-Flicka. Come here and help me with some of these bags. I wanna see how much weight you can carry on your back,” she snickered.

Dawn released a frustrated howl. Sure her sister may have died twice, but she’d never experienced the torture of craving hay.

The recent centaur stood in the entranceway to the Slayer’s bedroom. “Why aren’t you taking me with you?” she asked softly, casting her eyes downward.

Buffy looked up from her overstuffed suitcases that she continued to stuff on her bed. “Oh, Dawnie…” She walked over to the doorframe and gave her sister a long hug, standing on her tiptoes to reach the younger girl. “We’ve been over this before. Who knows what you’re gonna turn into next?” she reminded.

Her tone was warm and reassuring. “You’re much better off staying here at the castle away from the prying eyes of the world; in Cleveland I wouldn’t be able to protect you from carnival freak show hunters.” The blonde smiled lightly. “Plus you’ll have Willow and Xander and the gang all right here…and I’m only a phone call away?” she tried again.

Dawn snorted and stamped her front right hoof. “Yeah, yeah…your new apartment doesn’t have a stable for me, I know.”

“Dawn,” Buffy insisted, holding her sisters hands in her own. “I promise you…as soon as you get all this magic out of your system, then I’ll come get you. Right now though, you gotta stay here.”

The half-horse teenager turned away from her sister and began walking down the hallway. “I didn’t want to go to Cleveland anyway,” she called over her shoulder. “Ohio sounds like the most boring place on the planet.”

Buffy shook her head, chuckling to herself as she watched the youngest Summers girl disappear down the long hallway. Then she returned to the task of fitting her life into two suitcases and a carry-on bag.

+++++++++++++

“Wills, can’t breath. Need air,” choked the blonde Slayer.

“Oh!” the redheaded witch exclaimed loosening her embrace. “Sorry, Buff. I just…I’m really sad to see you go, ya know?”

Buffy smiled and gave her friend another hug. “I’m retiring – not dead. Don’t worry, guys. We’ll see each other soon enough,” she chirped optimistically.

“Willow, are you sure you don’t wanna hop in the backseat and come to the airport with us?” asked Xander from the passenger side of the small British car.

Willow eyeballed the tiny backseat. “Umm…I’m sure there’s something I should be doing right now.”

Buffy laughed. “It’s okay, Will. I wouldn’t want to cram back there either.”

Xander cleared his throat nervously, “Uh, not to rain on your parade Buffster, but where do you think you’re sitting?”

The corners of Buffy’s mouth crept up into a devilish smile. “Right where you’re sitting, Xander.”

“What? No way!” the eye-patched man sputtered. “I’ve got way longer legs than you and there’s no way I’m gonna be able to crunch in the backseat with all your luggage!” he protested. “Giles!” the young man whined, turning to face the vehicle’s driver. “Make her sit in the back! I called shotgun!”

Giles sighed and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. “Buffy, please don’t upset Xander. You are smaller, it’s only fair you sit in the back.”

Buffy stuck her bottom lip out in a well-practiced pout and stood with her hands on her hips defiantly. “Okay, fine. But next time couldn’t you just rent a gas-guzzling SUV or something? Honestly, all the hard work I’ve put in and the best you guys can do is this tiny tin can?”

Giles grumbled under his breath and rearranged his glasses on his face. Xander wiggled contentedly as if burying himself in the front passenger side of the car.

“So I guess that’s everything then,” the golden Slayer announced wistfully, gazing back at the Scotland castle one more time. She looked into the crowd of young Slayers that had assembled to see her off, scanning for the one face that less than a week ago she couldn’t fathom ever missing.

“Where’s….” she started, her voice trailing off in disappointment.

“Buffy,” her former Watcher called from behind the steering wheel of the compact car. “We really should be going if you want to catch your flight.”

The girl forced a smile toward the elder man. “Just one minute, Giles. I, uh, think I forgot my toothbrush. I’ll be right back!”

Giles opened his mouth to protest; certainly they had toothbrushes in Cleveland, but he let the matter drop upon seeing his Slayer sprint off toward the castle once again.

Xander clapped the man on the shoulder sympathetically. “You gotta admire her zeal for good dental hygiene, Giles.”

“Um, yes,” the English Watcher sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose.

 **+++++++++++++++++++**

 **POV Faith**

“Hey.”

I look up from my paperback book to see a vision in pastels floating down the wooden steps. Not wanting to be involved with the packing and the leaving, I had escaped to a little garden beyond the castle walls. I’m a little surprised that she knew where to find me, but I don’t let it show on my face.

“Hey yourself,” I grunt, glancing back down at the words on the page. I can’t really read what’s on the page though since the text is starting to blur from my eyes getting watery. Damn it. I really didn’t want to get emotional.

I can feel her eyes on me, but I keep my eyes trained on the page. I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of a teary goodbye. I don’t need any more goodbyes in this life. I need more hellos.

“So, I’m all packed up and ready to go…” she trails off, waiting for some kind of reaction from me.

“Find your sweater?” I ask, still not making eye contact. Shit, I’m an idiot. The woman I love is about to leave for who knows how long and all I can do is grunt a few words at her? Fucking great, Lehane.

She doesn’t respond to my question and I can feel the tension in the air. Finally, after an awkward moment, I surrender and sigh sadly, putting my book down on the grass.

“I’m sorry, B,” I apologize looking up at the disappointment on her face. “I don’t do goodbyes. I’ve never been any good at ‘em.”

“I guess that means you’re not coming with the gang to see me off at the airport then?” she asks softly.

I shake my head and turn away so she can’t see the tears that I can feel starting to trickle down my face. “I never dwell on goodbyes, because it’s not the being together that it prolongs,” I rasp huskily, my voice thick with emotion. “It’s the leaving.”

She nods once in understanding and sucking in a sharp breath, she turns and slowly ascends the stairs, leaving me behind to feel sorry for myself.

++++++++++

 **Elsewhere**

“Gotta give the Slayer credit…. Didn’t see that happening.”

The dark figure looked wistfully into the horizon as the sun began to set.

“Twilight, sir,” urged a uniformed officer. “Don’t you think it would be prudent for us to quickly assemble a force to attack their base of operations? They’ve got to be at their most vulnerable right now without the Slayer to lead them.”

Their mysterious leader held up his hand to stop the group’s grumblings.

“No, we won’t strike just yet. I want to see what this replacement Slayer has planned.” The masked man shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Buffy Summers benched herself just when this was getting interesting. Looks like we’ll just have to do something…persuasive…to get her back in the game.”

++++++++++

 **Faith’s POV**

 _Suggested listening: Death Cab for Cutie – I Will Possess Your Heart_

I’m sitting in my room – Buffy’s old room – here in Scotland. At first I thought it was creepy, me taking over the master bedroom since it had been hers; but it wasn’t like we were gonna turn it into a shrine or something in her absence, and no way was I gonna let someone else take these prime digs.

Plus I like to fancy that the sheets still smell like her. Yea, they’ve been washed a handful of times, but a girl can still pretend, can’t she?

Stop it. I’m not pathetic. And I’ll punch anyone who disagrees with me right in the teeth.

So I’m staring at this damn computer screen, sitting up in bed. It’s like the damn machine is mocking me or something. I asked Red to hook me up with a nice little Macbook, something sturdy that even I couldn’t destroy. I think I told her it was to look at porn. That she would believe. But really, I’m just trying to write a letter to a woman half a world away.

So much to say and I’m such a shitty typer. It’s all huntin’ and peckin’ for me. Not like I want to get one of the newbies to dictate for me though. Hah. That would not go well.

I crack my knuckles and tilt my head to the side, cracking my neck as well. Taking a deep breath, I begin to type.

=======================

 _“I never did like geography. War torn countries, changing borders, and innumerable dead seas – ever-changing like the cycles of Mother Moon. And now I’m haunted by geography; the distance that tears us apart._

 _I can still taste you on my lips. Still remember the bruising, needy, smashing of mouths and feminine hips. My body remembers your jutting hipbones, slender stomach, chiseled ribs, tender breasts, defined collar bone, succulent neck, gentle cheek, again to that mouth I crave. Thick, full lips that pout a nameless annoyance, plush pink tongue that teases and flames this hunger. Poetry in flesh. Deliciously painful._

 _The lobsters in this tank claw my ankles and beg my return to a watery grave of stoicism and darkness; but because of you, I am saved. I can’t go back, can never go back, despite teetering on the thin line of my salvation. You are sacred, blessed, religiously divine. You are the idol I worship and make the gods mad with jealousy at such a display of devout devotion. I want no other religion than you._

 _I have conquered the unattainable art of patience holding you in my arms. I won’t pretend it’s always been easy to resist, to calm my pounding heart and even my ragged breath. But I know I must not go there, must not make that move, for you are not mine yet. The chessboard has been set many lifetimes ago and I await the next move of your Queen.”_

========================

I read my letter again and let out a low whistle. Blondie’s gonna think I yoinked this stuff, for sure. Probably doesn’t think I can actually read let alone write this kinda junk. I can’t help but laugh to myself. I guess I still have some surprises left in me. I just hope she knows what I’m trying to say.

+++++++++++++++++

“I still don’t get why she’s the leader now,” grumbled the brattiest of the Slayers. “Just cause the great Blonde One said so, doesn’t make her any more qualified than any of us.”

“Well, she has been doing the Slaying gig a tad longer than us, Kennedy,” Rona pointed out to her sister-Slayer

“Yea, well none of us went evil though; that’s gotta count for something, right?” Kennedy stuck her bottom lip out in a pout.

A snort from a corner of the room startled the two girls. “You don’t understand this group yet, do you? Everyone goes evil sooner or later. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Wow, Dawn. Being a mystical creature certainly has put you in a grumpy mood,” Kennedy quipped.

Dawn’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well you try peeing for as long as I do, and you’d get grumpy too.”

Rona snickered. “Ew, kid. Too much information.”

Willow and Xander walked into the room, animatedly talking to one another, but stopped their conversation upon seeing the room’s three occupants. “Later,” Willow muttered under her breath to her long-time friend.

“How come one of them isn’t the new leader?” Kennedy spoke up, pointing at the room’s most recent occupants. “They’ve been killing demons for just as long as Buffy and way longer than Faith.”

Willow frowned and shook her head. “Are you bringing this up again, sweetie?”

“What?” protested the brunette, throwing her hands up. “I mean, when Buffy died you were in charge and everything worked out just fine.”

“Uh excuse me. Am I the only one with a brain suddenly?” Dawn waved manically. “Cause it seems to me like a witch being in charge of ENDING MAGIC feels a little, um, conflict of interest-y? And Xander, as cool as your eye-patch is, what gives you better qualifications beyond that one Halloween when you went all Army boy?” The girl-horse chuckled darkly. “I mean, we might as well just find Riley and ask him to lead.”

“Oh, Goddess, no,” groaned the redheaded witch. “That sounds like the worst idea ever.”

Dawn crossed her arms across her chest. “If Buffy thinks Faith is up to leading us, then I say she is too.”

“Thanks, Squirt.” Everyone turned quickly towards the room’s entrance to see the new Chosen One standing in the doorway, a hand on a hip. She hid behind her dark make-up like a warrior’s mask; her leather clothing protecting her like a shield. “Take a seat everyone,” she instructed. “We’ve got work to do.”

Giles filed in quietly behind the former rogue Slayer and took a seat near the head of the table. He nodded toward the rest of the group who silently fell into line.

“Alright, kiddies,” Faith announced, standing at the head of the long dining room table. “Different table, same meeting. Now the way I see it, we’ve got to bump up our killings – let the baddies know that this time we’re not messing around –”

“Uh, excuse me, but we weren’t exactly slacking before,” Kennedy interrupted smugly.

Faith flashed the girl a wild look and gritted her teeth. “You’ll talk when spoken to Kennedy, do you understand me?”

The younger of the two’s eyes went wide at the elder girl’s reaction. “Uh, sure. Yeah.” Kennedy slumped further into her seat and crossed her arms.

“Now you all might have thought that General Buffy was bad news, but you haven’t seen anything yet. I lead and I expect all of you to follow.” She glared at Kennedy again to emphasize her point. “With no questions, and no interruptions.”

Willow broke the tense silence that had fallen on the group. “So how do you suggest we go about informing our satellite operations about the change in command?”

Xander cleared his throat. “Fruit baskets?” he offered. The dark Slayer blinked once and stared blankly at the dark-haired man. He shrugged uselessly. “Sorry, I never said I wanted to lead. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Faith offered the man a small smile and then turned to the rest of the group. “Any other suggestions?”

Giles spoke up. “I think it would be wise for you to travel to the various Slayer compounds and make yourself known as the new leader. Most of the new girls will have never met Buffy before either and will only know of her through reputation.”

He coughed a little uncomfortably. “Unfortunately, most of them will know of your reputation as well, so I think it’s best we do a little Public Relations, as it were, before making our next move. It’s imperative that everyone see you’re no longer the unstable girl you once were.”

The dark girl looked guiltily at the English man. “Yea, uh, I guess that sounds like a good idea.” “Damn it, are they ever going to get over that?” she scowled to herself.

Faith ran her fingers through her hair nervously before continuing. “Oh, and Kennedy.” The girl in question perked up a little in her chair at her name. “Pack your bags cause you’re going to New York.” The leather-clad woman grimaced a little before her next words. “I want you to lead the NYC squad.”

“Really?!” the bratty Slayer squealed, grinning widely. Rona looked over at her sister-Slayer and frowned.

“Yea, uh, really. Stick around and Giles will fill you in on the details.” The Boston native looked around the room once more uncomfortably. “Damn. How did B do this all the time? She made all the speech givin’ look so easy.” “You guys are dismissed, I guess. I’ll let you know our next step soon.”

The raven-haired Slayer turned to walk out of the room, but stopped when she felt a hand on her elbow. She resisted the urge to turn and stab and instead merely turned her head to find Giles looking paternal.

“Don’t worry, Faith.” His deep voice was soothing like English tea. “The others will come along. It’s just going to take some time for them to adjust to Buffy being gone. We all have to adjust.”

“Yea, sure, G-man,” Faith grumbled. “Uh, and thanks.” With a brief smile at her new Watcher, the Chosen One exited the room to pack her own bags.

Time for another trip.

+++++++++++++++++++

 **POV Faith**

I’m not nervous to meet the newest Slayers. I mean, hell, I’m a people person. What’s not to love? It’s just that I haven’t seen her in a few weeks. After I sent that initial email, I never got a response. At first I thought I hadn’t sent the damn thing right, but when I got some emails back from other Slayers around the globe, I knew it wasn’t me.

So I guess I’m just gonna hang out with some slayers, introduce myself, spend a little time with the new girls, braiding hair, shit like that. I called B to let her know about Giles’ plan – to make my rounds around the different headquarters. Told her I had chosen New York first. Drop off Kennedy. Everyone wins.

And now apparently I get a little B time, too. Told me she’d be in New York when I got there. Kinda floored me, but I guess it makes sense. She doesn’t trust me – still wants to boss me around. Speaking of not trusting me…I’m bringing Willow and Xander along for the world-tour too. I dunno, maybe spending s’more time with the original Scoobies will do some good.

They’ve been all extra chummy with each other ever since Buffy left – been doing nothing but whispering back and forth like a couple of elementary school kids on the plane. Surprised Red’s not making with the moon eyes with her girl though since I’m sending her away to the Big Apple – Ken doesn’t look like she minds though. Just sitting there all smug as shit cause she finally gets to be the leader of something. Fuck, I hope this doesn’t bite me in the ass.

++++++++++++++++++++

 **POV Faith**

“Nice boots, Slayer,” I smirk. “Wanna fuck?”

I give her an appreciative once-over from her stylish, but affordable boots, up the clinging yellow mini dress that hugs her slender form in all the right places, to the haphazard, yet perfectly coifed blonde ponytail.

“I can’t believe you hitched all the way here,” I admire. “Sounds like something I woulda done.”

She smiles in a shy kind of way. “I would have walked barefoot through glass to see you, Fai,” she states.

I’m staring at her kinda slack-jawed, blinded by her reaction. I want take her in my arms, but as quickly as she gives me that sign of affection, she goes back to business.

“I didn’t want you to have to use Slayer funds to get me here. You’ve gotta be frugal now that we’re no longer pulling any jewel heists, but more importantly, I really want me being here to stay a secret. I could have asked Willow to zap me here, but I don’t want to make it any harder for you to transition into your role as the leader.”

“I-I don’t understand, B. Why are you here then? I thought when you said you’d be coming to New York it was to be an annoying backseat driver.”

She looks down at her hands and nervously picks at her cuticles. “I just wanted to see you,” she murmurs.

I nod, understanding the gig; she doesn’t want any of her friends to know we’re hanging out. I don’t say it though, but I know it’s hovering between us like an unacknowledged tension.

“Still, B. You didn’t have to come here,” I say, knowing I’m an ass for acting so cavalier with her confession. “I coulda found some excuse to come see you in Cleveland after my once-over of the New York squad.”

B’s hazel-green eyes are shining in the twilight. “I didn’t want to wait that long. I’m selfish that way,” she informs me, as if her selfishness was breaking news. She’s looking down now and smoothing the material of her mini-dress with her palms. “Your-your letter…” she starts.

I can feel myself suddenly blushing furiously. I’d kinda hoped she’d forgotten I’d done that or that it got lost along the way. “Sorry, B. I’m all kinds of hopeless, I know.”

“Stop it. It was – it was amazing.” She’s looking right into my eyes and I have to remind myself to breathe. “It was beautiful. You’re beautiful, Faith.” She’s smiling now – no, she’s beaming – and it makes my body flush with warmth. “No one’s ever written me anything like that before…”

Uh-oh, I don’t know what it is, but I can always sense when she’s about to board the babble-train. She does it whenever she tries to open up about how she feels about me.

“I mean, Angel used to draw creepy pictures of me while I slept, but I guess technically that was Angelus and not really Angel. And there was this one kid in junior high who gave me this little construction paper valentine that was cute, except that he wasn’t, so I like totally threw it away.”

I need to stop her before she totally channels Red, so I wrap her in my arms and kiss her mouth to silence her ramble; and she’s definitely not objecting. I smile into the kiss. Girlfriend definitely has some wicked skills. Buffy’s moaning lightly into the embrace and my body starts buzzing. Literally. “Mmm…you’re vibrating,” she mumbles into my lips.

I don’t register what she’s saying cause I’m just so goddamn into this amazing kiss. It’s been far too long since I’ve gotten to touch this girl.

She pulls back from the lip-lock. “Vibrating. Faith.” I know my face is all contorted with confusion, so she points at my crotch like that’s gonna help me. “You’re vibrating.”

I still have no idea what she’s talking about. I just wanna get back to the kissing and maybe toss in some groping for good measure. Then she takes me by surprise and kinda grabs me there and I groan loudly. “Jesus, B!”

“Your phone,” she states simply, her hands on her slender hips. “That is…unless you’re packin’,” she smirks.

My jaw drops. “Packing?” I manage to sputter the word out.

B shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I’ve been doing some reading in my spare time.”

I shake my head a little, like a cartoon character that just got smashed with an anvil. I manage to pull it together though, just as my phone’s about to go to voicemail. I yank it out of my front pocket and flip it open. “This had better be important,” I growl into the phone. Honestly, who the hell has this bad of timing?

“Ms. Lehane,” the female voice is curt and professional. I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose. Some slayer at NYC headquarters, no doubt. “Kennedy requests a meeting with you; she has some mission specs she’d like to get your approval on.”

“And this couldn’t wait until the morning?” I grumble. I cut off the other Slayer on the line before she can have another word. “Yeah, yeah...gimme a few minutes. I’ll be right there.” I close my phone without saying goodbye.

Buffy’s staring at me with an amused look on her beautiful face. “They need the Big Boss, huh? Gotta save the world?”

“Nothing as glamorous as that, B.” I state, my displeasure obvious. “Ken needs me to hold her hand over some mission details, I guess.”

“Well hurry up and finish coddling the newbies,” she chirps. “I’ve only got this hotel for the night and I wanna show you what I’m packing.”

I swallow hard. She’s not supposed to be able to rattle my nerves like this, is she? Damn. Blondie grew a pair while we’ve been apart.

++++++++++++++++++++

 **POV Buffy**

Honestly, who has that kind of bad timing? That Kennedy is seriously pissing me off. I was looking forward to a long night of cuddling and smoochies and maybe even a bubble bath. And now here I am alone in this hotel room.

I grab the remote control from the side table. Might as well make use of the cable I’m paying for since I don’t splurge for it in Cleveland. Flipping on the television, I plop down on the edge of the bed, my feet dangling from the side. I look down at my carefully planned outfit and smile sadly. “She didn’t even get to properly admire my ensemble.”

I suddenly notice it’s kind of cold and I wrap my arms around my body, hugging myself to keep in the warmth. When Faith had been in the room, my body had been anything but chilly. I sigh a little, remembering her dimpled smile when I opened the door and saw her for the first time in weeks. I’m still not sure what all of this means – us smiling at each other rather than kicking and punching. I know she’s in love with me. I’m just not sure where I stand on that issue.

But she’s certainly surprised me. I mean, the world-changing sex wasn’t surprising; I always had a hunch she would be unbelievably talented in that department. But the cuddling and the tenderness and the intimacy is totally making my head do the wacky.

Retirement’s been a trip, too. I mean, I’m still slaying vampires and going out on patrol every night, but Cleveland’s a breeze compared to what I’d been dealing with lately. It feels almost like a vacation. Okay, a vacation to a not-so-glamorous Hellmouth, but still a nice break from the drama of being the leader of a demon-killing army.

Everything’s just been happening so quickly. I know I probably shouldn’t be here – not when she needs to focus on the next big battle and getting the new Slayers to follow her. But again with the Buffy-is-selfish. I don’t think it was about me wanting sex. Not even me wanting the girl-on-girl action. I think, maybe, I just wanted to be close to her. To see her again. To be near Faith.

I keel over suddenly, wrenching my lunch on the concrete of the skyscraper roof. Ugh. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have tuna fish salad again. I look down at the mess by my shoes. That’s just inappropriately disgusting.

Wait a minute. Skyscraper roof? I look around startled. Where the hell did my posh hotel room go? This is so uncool. I paid for the entire night and everything.

“Buffy! Good, you’re here!” I turn at the sound of a familiar voice and am greeted by the sight of Willow, Xander, and Kennedy.

“Kennedy? I thought you were –” I stop myself suddenly. No one knows I’ve been in New York. No one knows that I saw Faith tonight.

“What the hell is going on, you guys? Why are you here on this skyscraper? But more importantly, why am I here?” I frown a little to show them just how displeased I am.

Willow’s grinning wildly and there’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. “Sorry about the teleporting, Buffy. I know how it makes your stomach do the wonky. But we had to get you here and I wasn’t sure you’d come here on your own.”

“Will, what’s going on? Tell me!” I insist, my voice starting to sound angry.

“Something’s going to happen tonight. Right here. Very soon. And my source said the Slayer needed to be here.”

“What? The Slayer?” I know my face has to be nothing but confusion at this point. “You guys, where’s Faith? Why isn’t she here? Does she know about this?”

Xander looks embarrassed, and Kennedy’s not making any attempt at eye contact, so I finally settle on Willow. “Willow? Why isn’t Faith here? You know you’re supposed to include her in stuff like this. If it’s so big that you had to teleport me unannounced from Cleveland, then she needs to know.” I release a disgusted sigh. “She’s the leader now. I’m retired and I plan on staying that way.”

“How can you just walk away from all of this? Now, when we need you the most?” Willow’s eyes narrow a little. “I’m not going to let a murderer ruin this. It’s too important.”

Okay, best friend or not, now I’m mad and my mannerisms tell them so.

“Murderer?!” I squeak, surprised by how shrill my voice has suddenly become. “Whatever you say, kettle…or pot…or whichever one you are, Miss Filet-o-Matic.”

Kennedy finally has the nerve to speak. “Well, technically Warren’s not dead.” What a brat. I’m clenching and unclenching my fists. God, I just wanna backhand her.

“Buff, uh, not to change the subject, but aren’t you a little overdressed for Cleveland?” I spin to look at Xander and open my mouth to accost him too, but I can’t think quickly enough to make a snotty comment about him having one eyeball. I merely look down at my carefully planned outfit. Leave it to my best friends to get in the way of another budding relationship.

I explode at them unexpectedly. “Faith is the leader now; not me any more, and not any of you. You’ve all got to grow up and get over the past. This isn’t high school anymore!”

But before I can even begin to really lay into them about how totally uncool it is for them to be excluding Faith, I’m no longer there. Well, I am. But they’re not. But I’m someplace different. But it’s kind of the same.

And some chick with purple hair and a nose ring is holding onto my scythe.

I mean. _Faith’s_ scythe.

And then she’s pushing me off the top of the skyscraper; but not before I can pull her over the edge with me.

If this is retirement, I quit.

++++++++++++++++++++++

TBC


	4. For a pessimist, I’m pretty optimistic

“Faith is the leader now. You’ve all got to _grow up_ and _get over_ the past. This isn’t high school anymore!”

And then the angry Slayer disappeared with a bright green flash, leaving behind a massive and disturbingly ugly monster. Although the creature appeared slightly stunned by its new surroundings, it quickly recovered and launched itself toward the remaining three friends.

“Woah! Remind me never to make Buffy mad,” quipped Kennedy as she attempted to dodge the monster’s slashing claws. “Is that gonna happen to all of us when we get old? Like an expiration date for slayers?”

The demon made slight contact; its razor-sharp nails easily shredded the cocky slayer’s top, lightly grazing her midsection. The brunette looked down at the blood soaking through her torn shirt. “Damn it. I really liked that top,” she complained.

“Something tells me that’s not Buffy.” Willow’s eyes briefly turned the color of coal as she engulfed the mystery demon in a giant containment field. The creature froze mid-snarl, a long line of drool oozing from its mouth.

The three friends stood, staring silently at the unmoving monster. Kennedy lightly held her stomach, but was more interested in the sight before her than her slight flesh wound. Her Slayer healing would make quick work of the gash.

Xander circled the frozen demon, eyeballing the creature with his good eye. “Willow, I thought that –,” he started, his voice quiet.

Willow swallowed hard. “I know, Xander. We were tricked…. and it’s all my fault.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Faith paced around the room, trying to contain her anger. When she had arrived at the New York City headquarters, no one could locate Kennedy and she wasn’t answering her cell phone. The Boston-native raked her fingers through her hair and cursed under her breath. “Fuckin’ brat wasting my time; I should be with Buffy right now,” she fumed to herself.

“Fuck this,” she announced, to no one in particular. “If Kennedy ever decides to show up, tell her that I –,”

Faith suddenly doubled over and clutched at her abdomen. A sharp pain pierced the dark Slayer in the same spot her recent-lover had once stabbed her many years ago. The suddenness and intensity of the pain brought the girl to her knees.

One of the New York slayers shrieked as she saw their new leader fall to the ground. “Ms. Lehane!”

A handful of other young slayers quickly gathered around the fallen woman and anxiously chattered amongst themselves, unsure of what to do.

“Did you see what happened?” one nervous voice asked.

“No! She just…fell,” another answered.

“Someone should call…I don’t know, who do we call?” a panicked voice lamented.

Faith gasped, sucking in a deep breath as she held her stomach and curled into the fetal position on the ground. “Oh God,” she rasped, instantly recognizing the familiar piercing pain. A low, feral moan escaped her lips. “No… She – she’s gone.”

The young slayers looked at each other nervously; unsure to whom Faith was referring and unable to do anything as they watched helplessly as the pain consumed the Boston girl. They could only stare in wonder and shock as she slipped into unconsciousness.

 *** Flashback ***

The rogue slayer stared at the spring mattress above her bottom bunk, a burning cigarette hanging vicariously from her pouting lips. Putting a hand to her mouth to steady the nicotine stick, she took a deep drag and blowing out, felt the familiar calm spread through her body.

The Boston native had been in prison now for over a year, parole nowhere in sight; but yet she remained sullenly optimistic for her future – for her redemption. Despite a rough couple of months in which she had sent a handful of potential roommates to the infirmary, the fallen slayer had managed to stay out of trouble in recent weeks.

Since turning herself in to Los Angeles’ finest, her only visitor had been Angel; and his visits were few and far between. But at least it was something to give her a semblance of hope for her eventual release. He was her only connection now to the outside world, to Los Angeles…to Sunnydale. “Not like I expected Buffy to visit me,” she snorted to herself, frowning.

But even though Buffy had never stepped foot inside the California prison, the brunette slayer could still feel her presence wherever she went. In the yard when she worked off her excess energy, she felt the persistent hum of their Slayer connection. In the shower when she glared defiantly at the other female inmates, silently daring them to give her a reason to lash out, the memory of Buffy Summers haunted her. And in her dreams, long after the lights had been turned off in her quadrant, the Chosen One made nightly appearances.

Sometimes the golden slayer stabbed her again, continually punishing the rogue woman night after night for her former mistakes. The dreams weren’t always located at her old apartment, but it was always the same knife slicing into her abdomen. On gut-free nights, the two would enjoy a picnic together or casual, yet cryptic, conversations by the seashore. And every few months came the dreaded yet highly anticipated sex dreams.

Normally a sex dream would have been a welcomed distraction from cloistered prison life, but not when it was a sex dream starring Buffy Summers. Instead, it only served as a painful reminder of the life that Faith would never have.

Sometimes she entertained the idea of writing the blonde to ask if she had those same dreams as well, to discover if they were shared Slayer dreams or merely the result of the brunette’s active imagination. But every time the raven-haired woman began a letter to her former nemesis, she changed her mind mid-letter and threw the written words away.

The Boston girl sat up in bed and flicked the dying embers of her cigarette butt across the small cell and into the toilet.

“You’re getting good at that,” a voice admired. “Maybe some day it’ll be an Olympic event.”

Faith looked up and smirked at her most recent cellmate, a young woman convicted of tax evasion. The brunette still couldn’t believe that the perpetrator of a petty white-collar crime had ended up bunking with a convicted murderer like herself, but it wasn’t her place to question her roommate in regards to her actual crime.

“Oh yea, Brit,” Faith snickered. “I can see it now – the Convict Olympics. Cigarette darts followed by synchronized shiv-making.”

“Laugh it up, Lehane.”

The dark slayer opened her mouth to teasingly accost her bunkmate, but instead she unleashed a haunting scream that echoed against the cold concrete walls of her cell. It was as if her tortured soul was expelling all the pain and suffering of her past.

“Shit, Faith. Are you okay?!” Her cellmate jumped out of the top bunk and landed on the concrete floor with a solid thump.

Faith couldn’t respond to the other woman. She closed her eyes from the pain, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her body. She gripped the metal sides of her lower bunk to steady herself. If the pain didn’t subside soon, she’d soon be revisiting the remnants from her cafeteria breakfast.

“Hey! I need a fucking guard in here! There’s something wrong with Lehane!” her bunkmate hollered.

A burly black man jogged down the corridor, his ring of keys jingling as he ran. “What’s all the noise? What’s going on?” His eyes went wide when he saw the color had completely drained from the no-nonsense prisoner’s face. “Shit! What’s wrong with her?”

All of the prison guards and the majority of the inmates knew how tough Faith Lehane was, so seeing her in such pain frightened the young man. “I need number 54 opened now!” he yelled, waiting for the familiar buzz that indicated the cell door was unlocking.

The dark slayer could make no sense of the events swirling around her. She pulled her body into the fetal position, hoping to stem the intolerable pain shooting through her muscles. After a while, she closed her eyes and surrendered herself to unconsciousness as the pain became too unbearable.

+++++++++++++++++++

When the Boston girl awoke, she found herself in bed at the prison infirmary, her right arm attached to a morphine drip. Her eyes fluttered open and she winced, bracing herself as if expecting to again be assaulted by the unexpected abdominal pain. But upon regaining consciousness, she discovered that the pain had ended.

She gingerly sat up in bed and pulled the IV from her arm, as if daring the pain to return.

Faith pulled up her prison top slightly, exposing her tight abdominal muscles and the slightly raised scar that served as a daily visual reminder of the mistakes of her past. She lightly traced the scar tissue with the tips of her fingers.

“You’re awake.”

Faith looked up suddenly at the sound of the voice and pulled her top down quickly, covering her stomach again.

The white-coated doctor clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he entered his patient’s room. “And I see you’ve decided to make yourself more comfortable?” He bent over and picked the needle-end of the IV off of the floor.

“Don’t need it,” she roughly rasped. “I just want to feel again.”

“Well,” he sighed, glancing down at the clipboard in his hand, “we did a full blood work-up, some routine scans, and an ultra-sound, and I’m afraid we can’t pinpoint what caused your abdominal pain.”

“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m a big girl – I can handle it,” she gruffly stated, waving the doctor off. “When are these drugs gonna wear off so I can go back to my cell?”

The doctor’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Drugs?”

“Yeah, you know,” she started, motioning toward the IV bag. “The stuff you got me on that’s made me all numb.”

The doctor shook his head, frowning slightly. “Ms. Lehane, I’m not sure I understand you – that’s just a saline drip. We don’t freely medicate inmates, particularly if we’re unsure they have a past history of drug use. It could send someone on the path of recovery back down a slippery slope.”

Faith sat up in her bed, her beautiful features twisted in alarm. “Why don’t I – I mean…I don’t feel – I don’t feel…” “her.” She silently finished her thought.

An orderly walked into the room and consulted privately in hushed tones with the doctor, briefly glancing in Faith’s direction.

“Ah, it seems you have a visitor. There’s been – been ah, um, a family emergency of some type?” The doctor’s face looked full of concern and pity for the young girl. “She can’t be more than 18 years old – how did she end up here?” he silently pondered.

The doctor and orderly left the room quietly, departing with one last look of compassion toward the female inmate.

Faith felt her Slayer-senses prickle. “Angel?” The woman could hardly recognize her voice. The name escaped her lips so tortured and so confused, it was as though a stranger had taken control of her vocal chords.

The souled vampire stepped into the room. His face looked drawn and tired and the edges of his eyes were red from crying.

Faith brought a hand to her mouth to stifle the tortured cry that bubbled up from her soul.

“Angel?” she squeaked again, her voice cracking on the syllables like a prepubescent boy. “Why can’t I – why can’t I feel her?”

Angel quietly embraced the fallen slayer as her body shook from her violent sobs.

The vampire didn’t need to say a word.

The rogue slayer already knew what had happened. A part of her had somehow known as soon as the mysterious pain had first torn through her body.

Buffy Summers was dead.

 *** End Flashback ***

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When Faith finally regained consciousness, she found herself surrounded by the faces of worried young slayers, yet still sprawled out on the floor. She propped herself up slightly and looked around as if to reorient herself.

“Wait, you guys, she’s coming to. Back up, everybody. Give her some room,” one of the New York slayers instructed.

The tight circle of bodies around the fallen slayer quickly opened to allow the Boston girl some space. Everyone stared in wonder, silently gazing down at their new leader.

A dull vibrating radiated through the brunette’s body. Gingerly, Faith pulled her cell phone from her tight pants pocket. One of the slayers tentatively reached to take her phone. “Miss Lehane, do you want me to –,”

“I’ve got it,” the dark slayer barked, flipping open the phone. The number indicated that it was Willow on the other line. But Faith didn’t need to be told what had happened; she already knew.

“Faith, um. I don’t know exactly how to tell you this but uh –,” Willow began hesitantly, reverting back to her former high school-self.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Faith raged. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice the sudden lack of Buffy Summers on the planet?”

Willow’s voice was filled with confusion and awe. “How did you know that she –,”

“She and I are connected in a way you’ll never fathom. It’s ancient. It’s eternal. And no matter what you say, I’m going get her back, with or without you.”

Faith had worked herself into a rage, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t bother to wipe them away. She didn’t care that novice slayers who had only just met her hours previously were witnessing this outburst and dramatic display of raw emotion. They needed to get Buffy back. She needed Buffy back.

She wasn’t going to lose her again.

“Faith, we’re going to find her,” the redhead gently reassured. The last thing they needed was an angry slayer.

+++++++++++++

 **POV Faith**

I’m in the basement of our New York headquarters, sparring with myself – an all-out slugfest with the Everlast heavy bag. Willow, Xander, and Kennedy showed up not too long after I talked on the phone with the witch. Tails between their legs, they tried to explain what had happened on that skyscraper roof. But I didn’t want to know the details. I just want answers.

I barked some orders for everyone to go into research-mode and find our missing slayer. And then I escaped to the basement. Research has never really been my thing and I should have stuck around to help, but there was no way I could sit civilly in the same room as Willow and her groupies after what they’d done.

I know I should be wearing some kinda protective gear on my hands, at least a wrap to cover my knuckles and bind my wrists, but I was too angry to bother with such paltry precautions. Besides, I kinda dig the biting pain when my knuckles split open against the worn leather of the weighted bag. Weird shit, I know. But it reminds me I’m still human. Reminds me I’m still alive.

I can’t believe they kept me out of the loop…again. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised though. After all the drama between the Scoobs and me, I guess I was a fool to think that they would have finally let me in.

It felt like all those buried memories surrounding Gwendolyn Post came bursting out again. She might have been evil and totally a bitch, but the lady knew what she was talking about: I’ll never be totally included in their little circle. Even if I might be the leader, they’re still gonna go behind my back and pull shit like this. I shoulda realized I still wouldn’t be privy to their secret Scoobie meetings. But as soon as we get B back from wherever she’s been whisked away to, that’s all gonna change. Count on it.

I’ve been having a reoccurring dream lately, ever since Buffy left for Cleveland. It’s more like a memory than a dream though…about the night I went bad. Not the night I killed Allan Finch. No, cause I realize now that that was all an accident.

No, I dream about the night I turned my back on Buffy and my Calling and sought him out. The Mayor.

We’d been fighting each other by the docks when a gang of the undead ambushed us. Mostly verbal sparring, but I had said something that pushed just the right button, and hell if that little blonde vixen didn’t punish me for it.

One side of my face was already bruised from Angel taking a bat to it. Now the other side was gonna display her Slayer-sized rage. Luckily I’ve always had a knack for covering up bruises with make-up. I wasn’t so adept at hiding my emotional bruises from her, though.

Always the hero, Buffy had pushed me out of the way just as a large wooden crate crashed onto the concrete with her beneath its weight. That’s when the vamps attacked.

In the dream, my body’s aching all over from having just dusted a couple of the undead. And then I see that fucking vampire, the same bastard who had served Kakistos, tossing her body around like it’s nothing more than a rag doll. I remember seeing the red nylon strap around her neck. I feel a kind of sinking dread in the pit of my stomach mixed with a perverse pleasure.

I could have let her die.

I could have let that vamp drain her blood until her body grew limp.

I could have let that vamp, whose heart was blacker than his skin, plunge his teeth into her pristine skin, penetrating and violating that goody-two-shoes.

But I didn’t.

I realize that he’s totally forgotten that another slayer is there too. Figures. Everyone always forgot about me when Buffy was around. Why should this fucker be any different?

I’m not, and never will be like Buffy Summers. But not even Buffy is like Buffy. Does that make sense? It’s just that everyone of those damn, ass-kissing Scoobies sees her as this perfect, self-sacrificing martyr. She got away with things like keeping Angel’s second coming from everyone and it was forgivable. She ran away to LA, leaving the Scoobies to fend off the baddies by themselves and when she returned she got an effin’ parade.

Buffy Summers could get away with murder. But not me. No. I end up rotting in some jail cell, wasting the best years of my life because a pasty political snitch was sneaking around dark alleyways.

In the dream I can see Buffy struggling for air and for her life as Trick tightens his grip on her neck. So I dust him. And when the dust settles, I stand there holding onto that wooden stake and she stands her ground panting for breath, her shockingly piercing eyes boring holes into my own. You can tell from the look on her face that she’s surprised I saved her. Hell, I surprised myself.

I could always read Buffy’s face and her emotions. It comes with being too honest. I could tell she was struggling with the idea that I hadn’t let him kill her. That maybe I was still save-able and could be converted into the perfect, submissive, obedient Slayer Number Two. God damn it, I don’t know why I didn’t let him kill her.

No, that’s a lie.

I know full well why I couldn’t let him kill her. I know it now and I knew it then.

From the first moment I saw her…that first night at the Bronze, sitting with her friends in all her blonde glory, I knew that Buffy Summers had to be mine.

We stare at each other for a fair amount of time, each of us recapturing our breath after the skirmish. I let the wooden stake drop from my hand and hear it clatter on the concrete ground. It sounds hollow as if it were far away.

I take a step closer to Buffy and see her eyes narrow with something. Anger? Confusion? Lust? Was I going to be scolded like usual for not helping her sooner?

And that’s when I always wake up, sweaty and restless. Cause I already know how the story ends.

“Ex-excuse me, Ms. Lehane?”

I stop destroying the punching bag just long enough to look up at the timid slayer sent downstairs to talk to me. No doubt she lost some bet or picked the short straw. Hell, even I wouldn’t want to approach me.

“Out with it, junior.” I sneer, grabbing the heavy bag to stop its violent swaying. I know I shouldn’t be taking my frustrations out on the youngins’, but I’m just so damn pissed.

“Ms. Ro-Rosenberg said for me to get you. She thinks she knows where uh, Buffy Summers is.”

My heart kind of flip-flops in my chest at the combination of those two words. Buffy – Summers. Part of me wants to slap this novice slayer across the face for the ease with which she tosses those two sacred words around. She’s not worthy to be uttering her name. But I take a deep breath and give the young girl a curt nod.

I somehow find my voice again. “Yea. I’ll be right up.”

Stepping away from the punching bag, I sit down on a bench and try to gather my thoughts before rejoining the group. I look down at my knuckles, not surprised at what I see – raw, bloody, the skin coming off in chunks.

+++++++++++++++++++

“So run this by me again,” Faith started. “You did a locator spell and Buffy’s in New York?”

“Yes.” Willow nodded.

Faith, Willow, Xander, and Kennedy sat in a conference room in the New York headquarters. Rather than opening the meeting to the newbie slayers, Willow had thought it best to keep the results of their research private.

Xander rubbed his hands together eagerly. “So where is the Buffster? Please say it’s Chinatown, ‘cause I’ve actually got a craving. We could pick up Buffy and then grab some egg fried rice?”

Willow frowned guiltily. “It’s, uh, a little more complicated than that.”

“Isn’t it always?” grumbled Kennedy, leaning back in her chair.

Willow flashed her girlfriend a trying look.

Faith grimaced, preparing for the worse. “So what’s this bad news then, Red?”

Willow took a deep breath. “Buffy’s still in New York, but she’s not in _our_ New York.”

“I hope I speak for everyone when I say, ‘huh?’” remarked Xander. “Like…a different dimension New York? Maybe one that consists of only shrimp?”

“No, no,” Willow said, shaking her head. “She’s not in a different dimension, per say. She’s still in our world, she’s just, uh, _in the future_.”

Xander’s face fell. There would be no General Tao chicken tonight. “And again, I hope I’m not out of line when I say, ‘huh?’”

++++++++++++++++++

TBC


	5. ‘Haddyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers – Time of Your Life arc, Season 8 and Fray comics  
> Some of the early dialogue has been adopted from both the Fray comic series as well as Season 8 comics in order to be true to “Fray-speak.”

_Bad day. Started bad. Stayed that way._

Buffy fell through the sky. The world rushed quickly around her as she plummeted toward the ground. The blonde was acutely aware that eventually she would no longer be free falling, but would instead end up like a mosquito on a windshield. But rather than dwelling on an eminent and painful death, her mind was instead preoccupied with the struggle she now faced grappling with the mysterious woman who had originally pushed her off the edge of a skyscraper.

Pain shot through the blonde slayer’s body as she suddenly landed flat on her back, her fall broken by the fortunate timing of a – flying car? “Okay, I’m _so_ not in Kansas anymore,” she moaned, rubbing the back of her head which throbbed already from the jarring impact.

Somehow the mysterious woman had managed to land on her feet and not on her head, unlike the Californian. “This is so fuckin’ toy,” exclaimed the strange girl. “You think you can spin me with a half-coi glam of a slayer been dust more than two cen?” The purple-haired figure stood menacingly over the fallen Slayer, the scythe comfortably resting in her left hand. “You’re lower than a lurk,” she seethed.

“Uh – English?” Buffy quipped, looking up at the threatening figure looming over her. “And, hello, when did cars start flying?”

The young woman raised the scythe above her head and swung down as if felling a large tree. Buffy rolled out of the way just in time as the weapon chopped by her and imbedded deep in the metal of the car roof. The small slayer quickly scrambled to her feet and adopted a fighting pose as her attacker wretched the scythe free from the metal debris.

The two slowly circled each other, agility moving despite pacing on the roof of a flying car. They moved slowly, sizing each other up, as the vehicle continued to speed through the thick, smog-filled air. The scythe-wielding woman telegraphed her attack, allowing the elder slayer to easy block and dodge her kicks and punches.

“Would you stop trying to slay me already?” Buffy yelled, finally pinning the woman’s arms in a hold behind her back. The athletic woman wiggled and squirmed, attempting to free herself from the blonde’s unyielding grip. “Lemme go, ya shifter! You think I’m slack?”

Buffy retained her tight hold on the young woman, not allowing her to spin around. “You are talking crazy-person talk.” She grimaced as the captive girl kicked backward and connected with her shin. “Put your words in word places, please.”

“Get it over with already, yeah?” yelled the other woman defiantly. “Soon as you kill me, another one will be Called to take my place,” she threatened.

“Stop it already!” Buffy growled, releasing the woman and pushing her away lightly. “No one’s doing any kind of killing.” She held up her hands as a sign of truce, silently praying the tattooed and pierced woman wouldn’t continue her attack.

“Listen,” the blonde started slowly as if talking to a stubborn child. “We’re both kick ass and have super powers. Turn offs include sloppy dressers, insensitive men, and vampires. Is any of this sounding familiar?”

“It’s not poss,” the other woman murmured, finally dropping her guard and allowing the scythe to hang unthreateningly by her side.

“And again I point out that we’re standing on a flying car,” the blonde slayer observed, standing a little straighter now that it appeared the other woman was not a threat. “Pretty sure _anything_ is ‘poss’ at this point.”

The purple-haired girl blinked a few times as if trying to wrap her head around a difficult math equation. “You’re _her_. Buffy Summers.”

Normally the blonde slayer would beam from the instant recognition, but given her unorthodox surroundings, she was more curious than ever. “The one and only,” she nodded. “I mean, except when there’s a robot-me.”

The tattooed woman shook her head. “But you’re dead.”

Buffy scratched at the back of her neck nervously. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“No, like _totally_ dead,” the other woman insisted, her hands animate. “Probably two cens or more.”

“Oh! I get it!” the California slayer squeaked. “This is the future!” Buffy paused, thinking. “Cute.”

The two women continued to stand on the large flying car, an awkward silence falling upon them.

“So, we’ve already established that I’m Buffy…so that makes you…” the elder slayer trailed off.

“Oh, sorry. Fray. Melaka Fray,” the woman stated, pointing to herself. “I’m the Slayer.”

Buffy allowed herself a small smile. “Got that much from your nifty accessory. I used to have one of those.” She pointed at the scythe. “Actually…I guess I used to have _that_ specific one.”

Melaka glanced down at the scythe in her hands and a look of predatory possession briefly flashed across her eyes when she looked back up and met the other slayer’s gaze.

Buffy held up her hands, expecting another attack, instantly recognizing the look in Melaka’s eyes. “Oh! I’m not here to take the scythe. Been there, done that. Moved on. Retired, in fact,” she babbled anxiously.

“Retired?” Melaka asked, cocking her head to the side, looking at the blonde slayer with renewed interest.

“Long story,” Buffy insisted, waving her hand nonchalantly. “Maybe I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Melaka Fray frowned at the strange woman before her.

“So am I still in Manhattan?” Buffy asked, looking around at the dilapidated city as it rapidly flew by. “Gotta admit it’s a little underwhelming.”

Melaka nodded once. “ Welcome to ‘Haddyn. Follow me. You’ll get the tour.”

The small slayer smiled excitedly and bounced a little on her feet. “Oooooh,” she cooed. “Like those ‘Behind-the-scenes’ tours that tourists pay big-bucks for?”

Melaka blinked once again. This slayer from the past was certainly unusual. “Tourist? I don’t know this word.” She narrowed her eyes in confusion.

“Oh. Yeah. I guess people wouldn’t actually travel to come see _this_.” She spread her arms wide, taking in the depressing environment again.

The current slayer shook her head again in disbelief. “C’mon, spazz. We can’t ride this thing forever.”

She grabbed the blonde’s hand tightly and hopped from the moving car onto the ledge of an impossibly tall skyscraper. Buffy stumbled a bit upon landing, her stylish-but-affordable boots not being conducive to building hopping, but she managed to carefully balance herself on the edge. She nervously peered down the side of the tall building, mindful of her mini-dress and the brisk breeze. “Woah. That just keeps going down, doesn’t it?” she admired.

Melaka smirked at the small woman’s reaction to her world. “Let’s go, Slayer. There’s a lot you need to see.”

++++++++++++

Melaka Fray walked along a muddy gravel road, shouldering the scythe. She walked with the confidence of a woman who knew she could handle the twists and turns life threw at her. Buffy obediently followed behind, stopping briefly every so often to stare in horror at this futuristic version of New York. She had seen _Back to the Future_ numerous of times and _this_ wasn’t what Marty McFly had witnessed. And although the elder slayer had never been to the East Coast before, she was certain this wasn’t how the 2008-version looked either.

Life at sea level was startlingly worse than the stifling air pollution the small slayer had witnessed while confronting the current slayer on top of the flying car. This world horrified and shocked the blonde woman. All around her disfigured humans rummaged through garbage and refuse. The utter filth, dirt, and extreme poverty were unlike anything Buffy had ever witnessed firsthand. But what upset her the most was the overwhelming despair that hovered in the air like a thick fog.

“What’s wrong with all these people? Why – why do they look like this?” Buffy subtly motioned toward a young boy with only one arm, playing with an equally disfigured dog.

“Eh, that kid’s got it easy,” Melaka breezed as she led the small slayer down a dark alley. “You should see my boss, Gunther. Poor guy’s a Radie.”

“Radie?” Buffy questioned, following the other slayer, carefully picking her way through the littered passage.

“Yea, you know,” Melaka stated as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Been exposed to radiation?”

“Oh, right.” Buffy paused and licked her lips. “And what’s exactly wrong with Gunther?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows together.

“Underwater snake,” Melaka smirked, kicking a wooden crate out of their way.

Buffy stopped abruptly, her face showing her shock. The purple-haired slayer laughed sympathetically at her reaction.

“C’mon,” she urged, grabbing the blonde’s hand. “Let’s go get a cup a sack. It’s been a helluva day and I could use a drink.”

The blonde slayer allowed herself to be pulled along. “Do I even want to know what a ‘sack’ is?”

++++++++++++++

“The dreams. Sometimes I’m a slave, sometimes a princess. And…and sometimes I’m you. Only – I don’t have the dreams. That’s Harth’s deal. I got the Watcher files and the kick-ass strength and he got the slayer dreams.”

“Harth. Your twin brother….The one who’s – who’s a vampire now…” Buffy clarified, wanting to make sure she had understood the other slayer’s story. Melaka nodded somberly and looked away briefly, guarding her emotions.

The two sat together at a small wooden table in a run-down pub at street level. The bar owners seemed to know the purple-haired youth and poured the two women liberal amounts of alcohol without asking for IDs. As the two sat conversing, Buffy had to mentally remind herself to not stare at the other patrons. Some had all their limbs, but most wore tattered, worn clothing and were heavily armed with futuristic-looking weapons. The elder slayer couldn’t help but feel like she was in a doomsday movie like _Total Recall_. She half-expected Arnold Schwarzenegger to bust through the front doors of the pub at any moment.

“And your Watcher?” Buffy asked, trying to learn more about this young woman’s life. She was slowly wrapping her head around her new surroundings and how after centuries of inactivity, a slayer had been called to once again battle evil.

Melaka turned back again, a look of disinterest splayed across her defined features. “Only met the dude once. Then he set himself on fire. Bugger drenched himself in gasoline and lit himself up like a Christmas tree.”

Buffy whistled low. “Wow. You really know how to turn on the charm, don’t you?”

Melaka grunted as if confirming her suspicions.

Buffy took a small sip of her “sack” and tried not to make a face. There was no use in offending the future slayer over her poor choice in alcohol. “So then how did you learn about all this?” the blonde asked. “I mean, that you were the Slayer. And how did you get the Watcher files?”

“This demon goat named Urkonn. He talked funny. Real formal.” The slayer laughed darkly, remembering. “I thought the ugly bugger was hired to grind my bones into bread the first time I saw him. He’s the one who first told me about Lurks – Vampires he called ‘em.”

Buffy nodded, encouraging the young woman to continue her story.

“No one had been Called for over 200 years. The Watchers Council was still around though. But they had turned into these religious fanatics and were of no help to a Slayer anymore.” Melaka paused long enough to drain the rest of her drink. She set the empty glass down on the wooden table and looked over at the bar, motioning for a refill.

“So apparently these demons from another dimension sent this goat-man-thing to help me,” she continued, wiping some froth from her upper lip with the back of her hand. “The way I figure, the demons are all biding their time before they come back to earth. Just chillin’ out. ‘Cept the Lurks – they’ve been creeping back into my world somehow; I’m still a little fuzzy on that part,” she shrugged. “Only – only Harth messed up the demons’ plans. He tried to open a portal to their world, but they weren’t ready to come back ‘cause they weren’t at full strength.”

“So they sent this Urkonn guy?” Buffy asked, confused.

“Yea, crazy, right?” Melaka smiled, but it was joyless. “They sent a demon to train the first slayer Called in cens. To teach me who I am.”

A barmaid approached the table and set two full glasses down. The slayers paused their conversation as she wiped down the tabletop and retrieved their empty mugs. She flashed Melaka a brief smile and looked suspiciously over at the blonde stranger before striding off to return to the bar.

Buffy followed the trajectory of the future slayer’s eyes and found them appreciatively glued to the retreating backside of the bartender. It was odd, but even though Buffy had only just met this other girl, she reminded her eerily of Faith. Maybe it was her punch first, ask questions later attitude, or the way she wore leather. Or maybe just being around attractive girls made the blonde think about her recent lover.

“So this goat demon’s kind of like your Watcher now?” Buffy asked, not wanting to lose Melaka’s focus to beer and shapely women. The elder slayer had no idea how long she would be stuck in this future world and she needed to become acclimated as soon as possible.

“No.” Melaka snapped her eyes away from the bartender and back to the blonde slayer. “He messed up. Killed an innocent. A- a friend of mine.” The purple-haired woman swallowed hard, pushing back her emotions. She set her jaw in determination. “So it was nessa that I kill him.” She shook her head, her eyes closed. “No one hurts mine and gets away with it. No one spins me like that without consequences.”

Buffy laid a hand over her sister-Slayer’s. “I’m sorry, Fray. I’ve lost a lot of people in my life too. And – and I’ve had to kill, too.” She sighed heavily with the weight of the memories. “I wish I could tell you that it gets easier.”

+++++++++++++++++

Melaka jammed the keycard into the scanner outside of her run-down apartment. The front door opened with a tired creak. “Home sweet home,” the slayer mumbled. “Don’t mind the mess. I’m not exactly the best housekeeper.”

She strode through the threshold, tossing her keys onto a small table in the foyer. Buffy followed close behind.

“Thanks again for letting me crash here. My carefully picked ensemble seems to have no pockets and I didn’t exactly have time to prepare. I really wish I would get some kind of memo before I get sucked into portals,” Buffy babbled cheerfully, a little drunk. “Cause really, you never know what the weather’s going to be like in different dimensions. Plus I bet my Master Card wouldn’t quite get me a nice stay at the Days Inn here.”

“Master-who? Days Inn?”

Melaka questioned the woman, but didn’t really expect an answer. She was quickly learning that Buffy Summers was prone to out of control babbling and it was best not to get her to clarify these mystery words. It only rendered both women confused and frustrated.

“Nothing. Nothing,” Buffy pouted. “But I just can’t believe there aren’t any Starbucks in the future. I woulda thought if anything could stand the test of time, it would have been that.”

“Oh wait, I’ve heard of that. The Battle of Starbucks!”

“Okay, again with the crazy speak.” Buffy stifled a yawn. “Dang. I seriously need to go to bed.”

“You sure you don’t want to go on a quick trip around the neighborhood?” Melaka asked hopefully. “Take out a couple of lurks?”

Buffy frowned guiltily. Despite the initial chilliness and disinterest, the other slayer seemed to genuinely appreciate her being there. “Naw, I’m good,” the blonde insisted. “Maybe tomorrow night though if I’m still here. It’s just jet lag – I mean, time lag, I guess. Whatever it is, I’m majorly beat.”

“Alright,” Melaka nodded. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning then. Try not to break anything while I’m gone.”

“Why would you think that I –,” Buffy started to protest. “Wait! Do the Watcher files say that I break things?”

++++++++++++++++++

“Jesu!” Melaka yelped, holding her hand over her heart. “You scared me.”

A small, thin woman stepped out of the alley shadows. She wore a long, dark purple dress that billowed around her black high-heeled boots. Her make-up was as dark as she was, her lips painted black, her fingernails charcoal colored and long like claws. Her jet-black hair ruffled slightly in the cool ‘Haddyn night air. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, but her face suggested something else. Her forehead was painted with dark, bulging veins. Her soulless coal-filled eyes held a look of unregisterable torture as if she had experienced pain and death beyond her years.

“It’s dangerous ‘round here at night,” Melaka informed her. “You should go home.” The future slayer started to walk away.

“You have the Princess,” the dark woman stated calmly. “The Princess left her Kingdom for the Forest of the Now.”

Melaka froze in her spot and turned to look at the cryptic woman. “What’s with you people talking funny today? It’s like an epidemic.”

“The Slayer of Slayers. You have her.”

Melaka tightened her grip around the scythe. Over the past few months it had become her security blanket. When she found her courage beginning to wan, she reminded herself that she was connected to something larger than all of this – she belonged to something ancient and true and pure.

“This world you live in doesn’t have to be this way,” the strange girl continued darkly. “I can help you change it. For the better.”

“What do I have to do?” the young slayer questioned, bracing herself for the other woman’s response.

“Kill her. Kill Buffy and save your world.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Buffy woke up slowly, her head throbbing. The room was blanketed in darkness, but she could make out that she was in a bedroom. “Ugh,” she moaned, suddenly remembering where she was. “Apparently future beer doesn’t like Buffy just like the 2008 version.” She sat up in bed slowly, willing the room to stop spinning. “At least I didn’t go all Slayer 400 B.C. again,” she mused aloud. “That’s a plus.”

Buffy padded out of the small bedroom down a short corridor to where she remembered seeing a kitchen. Melaka sat at a small circular table, writing in what appeared to be a journal.

“How was patrol?” Buffy chirped.

Melaka looked up and snapped the journal closed quickly. “I, uh, met someone last night,” she revealed.

“Oooh…sounds…romantic,” cooed the blonde slayer, helping herself to a cup of something that resembled coffee. She took a seat across the table from the other woman.

“She’s called the Madwoman,” Melaka stated darkly. “She’s been strapped to Harth as of late. Doesn’t spell good.”

“Okay, strike my previous comment from the record.”

Melaka’s face mirrored the seriousness of her tone. “She said she wants to help me. If I help her.”

Buffy disregarded the future slayer’s dark mood and continued to babble. “Help you? Like with slayer stuff? Or cleaning the apartment? Cause I gotta tell ya, a clean slayer is a happy slayer.”

“Slayer stuff,” the purple-haired woman mumbled, looking down at her hands.

“Huh. That’s neat. Maybe you should get your own little Scoobie-clan,” Buffy rambled.  
“I mean, with no Watcher, being a slay-girl’s gotta get awfully lonely? Kinda one girl against the world?”

“I’ve got Erin – my older sister,” Melaka protested defensively. She didn’t want to admit that she _was_ terribly alone in the fight against evil. “She’s a law. She helps some.”

“So what’s up with this Madwoman?” Buffy asked, playing with the coffee mug in her hands. “What does she want you to do?”

“Kill you.”

Buffy spit out her coffee and quickly scrambled to her feet.

Melaka remained seated. She looked tired, small, and confused.

“But – but why would she want to kill me?” the blonde squeaked. “And how does she even know about me?”

Melaka ran her fingers through her dyed hair. “She said something you do in your time makes my world turn out like this. If – if I kill you here in the future, it’ll keep you from making that mistake in your time. Because then you wouldn’t be there to make that world-ruining blunder – ‘cause you’d be dust.”

“Something _I_ do? How is that possible? I just retired!” Buffy protested vehemently. “Are you sure it isn’t someone else? Like maybe something Faith does? Cause really, that sounds more accurate.” The blonde hated herself for the words as soon as they came out. Bad habits die hard.

“Faith. Faith Lehane?” Melaka looked interested for the first time that morning.

“Yuh-huh,” Buffy stated, partly distracted by thoughts of the dark Slayer. “She’s in charge now, not me. So really, I shouldn’t even be here; this whole thing has gotta be a giant mistake.”

The current Chosen One scratched at the back of her neck and smiled mischievously. “I’ve read the books ‘bout that one. I think she and I would get ‘long real well from the read of it.”

“Hey, Next-Gen. Keeps your mental thoughts away from my…” Buffy trailed off, lost in her own thoughts. What _was_ Faith to her? They certainly had gotten intimate over the past few weeks, but she still hadn’t confided in any of her friends what had been going on between the two of them. What was that about? Was she embarrassed? Ashamed? Afraid?

She shook her head hard. “But back to _me_ ,” she continued. “What is it that _I_ supposedly do to make this happen?” Buffy gestured wildly out the window at the sprawling view of sadness and despair. “Was - was it Calling all those Slayers?”

Melaka Fray looked perplexed at the ancient Slayer’s words. “Huh? More Slayers?”

“Yea, you know…Slayerpalooza 2003?”

Melaka shook her head slowly, still not understanding the blonde’s words. “You’re speaking crazy talk again, Buffy Summers.”

Buffy pointed to the slayer scythe, which lay awkwardly on the kitchen counter. “Willow, my friend, she’s this powerful witch in my world and she used the scythe to Call all the potentials – girls who could potentially be Called if the current slayer died. We made them _all_ full-out Slayers – made them all Slayer-fied. I needed an army to defeat The First Evil.”

“First Evil, eh? That’s not in the books. And I know that’s something I woulda noticed,” the future slayer stated.

“Then your books are wrong,” Buffy insisted.

“Well,” shrugged the pierced and tattooed Slayer, “They’re all I’ve got – my only connection since Harth’s got the Slayer dreams.”

Melaka paused, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. “But …if there were so many slayers before, how come _I’m_ the only one in this cursed world now? Seems like having more like us around could take care of a few lurks at least.”

“I don’t know, Fray,” signed the blonde twisting her hands together. “Maybe - maybe there was never meant to be more than one.”

Buffy turned away from the young slayer and looked wistfully out the kitchen window. The heavy burden of realization was starting to hit her. They had failed. They had miserably and catastrophically failed their mission to save the world from evil. And somehow, this distant future, this world in which she now inhabited, was all her fault. She wiped a lone tear away before it escaped down her face.

Straightening her shoulders and standing a little taller, the slight blonde looked over her shoulder and back toward the young slayer. “Bring me to this Madwoman,” she ordered, her features set and determined. “I think it’s time she and I had a little conversation.”

+++++++++++++++++++++

TBC


	6. Overlap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sure there’s really no time limit on curses, so please suspend your disbelief in this chapter for the sake of the story line. Thank you.

**POV Faith**

“What part of _in the future_ don’t you get, Xander?” I sneer in his direction.

“Hey Boss-lady, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he back-peddles, no doubt trying to keep my emotions in check. “I’m just trying to stay on the same page as everyone else,” he insists, nervously.

They all get a little twitchy when I get angry. Serves ‘em right if I did go on another murdering rampage; would at least make ‘em think twice before going behind my back again with secret plans.

“Xander, the only time you got near my panties, you nearly came in your pants.” I glare at him tauntingly. “Let’s not dig up old memories.”

“Um, stop. Please.” Kennedy implores, looking more than a little disgusted by the trajectory of our conversation.

I flash a wild look in the brat’s direction, doing my best to keep my anger under control around these three Tools. I might have just expended a helluva lotta energy beatin’ up on that Everlast bag, but I’ve got loads more where that came from.

“Let’s cut to the chase, Red,” I growl. “How do we get Buffy back?”

Willow looks a little flustered now that the attention has been thrown back on her. “Well, that’s the tricky part,” she starts, almost apologetically. “My source says that the rift is going to re-open tonight; so in theory all we have to do is reach across the time continuum and grab Buffy. But the thing is,” she pauses, “we won’t know _which_ Buffy to grab.”

“Okay, you lost even _me_ on that one, baby,” Kennedy admits, looking confused.

The Wicca stands from the table where we’re all seated. She grabs a dry-erase marker and starts drawing on the white board on the opposite side of the room.

“Oooh!” Xander cheers. “Win, Lose, or Draw!”

Kennedy and I look at each other and we both roll our eyes. At least the bratty Slayer and I can agree on one thing.

“Okay,” Willow chirps, redirecting our attentions. “Let’s say this line is Time.” She points to a solitary line she’s scrawled across the white board. “And these wavy lines are rifts in Time – like the one that sucked Buffy in,” she clarifies. “If we grab onto the wrong ripple, we grab the wrong Buffy – as in the Buffy who’s _supposed_ to be in that time…not our 2008 version.”

“Woah there, Red,” I stop her, standing from the table to walk over to the board to get a better look at her scribbling. “So you’re saying that we could accidentally nab onto _Grandma_ Buffy?”

She nods. “Exactly.”

Kennedy chimes in, having to toss in her two-pennies worth. “But if that happened, why couldn’t we just throw Grandma back? Be like, ‘oops, my bad g-ma,’ and try another ripple? Like…trial and error until we get the right one?”

Willow shakes her head. “We know she’s in the future, but we don’t know just how far in the future she is.” She pauses, as if reflecting on something. “She could just be living in tomorrow, for all we know. But if we grab the wrong version of Buffy, it could possibly change everything about our own futures. It could be cataclysmic,” she adds for affect.

One question hasn’t been settled for me yet. “Why exactly did your source say the Slayer needed to be on top of that skyscraper last night?” I eyeball the redhead suspiciously.

“She – uh – I mean, my source didn’t say,” the witch stammers. “You know how vague and cryptic prophecies can be,” she offers as a lame excuse. “But…she’s been super reliable in the past…I guess I didn’t think –.”

“Yea, I know,” I interrupt sharply. “You _didn’t think_.”

Willow hangs her head a little and I almost feel sorry for snapping at her. Almost.

I tug a little on my ponytail in my anxiousness and walk away from the group to settle down in an office chair near the door. I lean forward in the seat, my elbows resting on my thighs. “So again,” I ask, my voice losing some of its edge, “how are we gonna get Buffy back? Cause it sounds like we’d better move fast if this rift thing is re-opening tonight.”

“I know,” Willow nods. “And I think I might have an idea.”

Xander and Kennedy suddenly sit up a little straighter in their chairs. I raise an eyebrow, but do nothing more. I don’t wanna show how much B being gone is eatin’ me up on the inside. They don’t need to know how I’m feeling; they don’t deserve it.

Willow sits down again at the small conference table and looks across the distance of the room to where I’m brooding. “Your Slayer dreams,” she starts. “You said it yourself, Faith. You and Buffy are connected.” She drums her fingers nervously on the tabletop. “I think we can use that connection to our advantage. If you’re able to have a shared Slayer dream, maybe she can tell you where she is.”

I frown slightly at the suggestion. That ain’t gonna work. “Those shared dreams aren’t exactly up to us, Red,” I insist. “It’s more like, the Powers-that-Be yanking our strings whenever _they_ see fit. I’ve never been able to just think, ‘hey, I think I wanna chill with Blondie while I’m dreaming tonight.’ ”

“But have you ever tried?” Xander asks innocently.

I’m sure my face is turning a little red. Why would they think I’d wanna have a Buffy dream? I have a hard time not tripping over my tongue.

“No, I, uh...no,” I manage to sputter out. _Smooth, Lehane. Real smooth_.

Willow taps her fingertips against her lips looking deep in thought. “I was once able to do a shadow walk inside Buffy’s mind,” she says, remembering. “Maybe I won’t be able to get you in her _mind_ , since she’s not right here. But maybe, with the right meditation and a little magic, I can get you to shadow walk wherever she is. Then, all you have to do is figure out the date and we can get her back.”

“Gee, you make it sound so easy, Red.” I banter sarcastically.

I can feel all their eyes on me. The room is blanketed suddenly with a kind of silent awkwardness.

“So you’re saying this is all up to me?” I complain, shattering the silence in the room.

Kennedy decides to chirp in again. “Well…you are the Chosen One, aren’t you?” She smiles smugly, proud of her lame contribution.

I audibly groan and rest my head in my hands.

 _Damn it, B. Why’d you have to go get yourself lost in the future?_

++++++++++++++++++

So now I’m shut up in my New York bedroom, with the orders to find B. Willow chanted some ancient mumbo-jumbo and waved around an incense stick or something around the room and so now it’s all up to me. The Chosen One.

I’m sitting on my bed, cross-legged, concentrating on my breathing. Concentrating on finding Buffy. There are only a few more hours until night is upon us and the rift re-opens, but I’m trying not to think about that. Instead, I allow my mind to be filled with thoughts of the blonde Slayer.

The furniture in the room starts to fade in and out. It’s like I can’t tell what’s real and what part of this is a dream. Is this bed stand next to me in Manhattan 2008? Or is this part of Buffy’s futuristic world? Is that painting on the wall the product of a contemporary or is it the work of someone who hasn’t been born yet?

First it’s just shapes and then those shapes start to solidify and they’re walls and doors and windows and soon everything starts rushing into focus – bookshelves and garbage cans and fake plastic plants. Dang, the future is tacky.

I look around hesitantly and discover that I’m in a library of some sort. But there’s no Buffy. _Of course there’s no Buffy_. _Why would B be hanging out in a room full of books?_

I stand up from the carpeted floor and become acutely aware that I’m not exactly corporeal. Damn it. I see a diary on a wooden table and testing my theory, I reach to pick it up. My hand goes through not only the journal, but the table on which it rests as well. Okay, this is gonna be a little trickier than I had originally planned.

 _“Hmm... I wonder...”_

I take a deep breath and walk steadily towards a closed door. Wincing a little, as if expecting pain, I’m surprised when I walk straight through the door. Instead of knocking my head and surging backwards, I find myself in a dark corridor.

 _“Woah. Ghost me is pretty cool,”_ I silently congratulate myself.

I walk down the hallway, reaching out with my Slayer senses to find the woman I love. Walking past a full-length mirror, I feel a little bit like Angel. Nothing. No reflection. I don’t exist here. But I know I _do_ exist because ever since arriving here, I can feel her power again and those all-too familiar tingles.

Part of me just wants to break down and cry to be feeling our connection again. Since she’s been lost, I’ve been like a shell of my former self –like a Twinkie without its gooey center – like I’ve been walking around soulless and empty without her in my heart. Even when I was evil and working for the Mayor I could still feel her goodness wrapping around me. With her gone in the future though, nothing had felt warm.

But I don’t have time for tears right now – I’ve got to find her first.

I walk through another door, thankful that this ghost thing actually works. I don’t dwell on the fact that my feet can touch the floor though – I’ll have to ask Red about that later when I get back. I find myself now in something that could be a bedroom, except where there should be a bed is a hammock instead.

I hear movement and shuffling in what is no doubt a connected bathroom or a large closet. My body tenses defensively, nearly forgetting that no one can see me. No one can touch me here.

And then I see her. She walks out of the bathroom and I suddenly realize I’ve been holding my breath. It comes out in shuddering bursts when I finally remember to breathe. I know I just saw her less than a day before, so why does it feel like she’s been gone for much longer?

She’s abandoned that hot little mini-dress that I didn’t get the opportunity to properly take advantage of last night. When I first saw her in that outfit, I had to restrain myself from bending the girl over the nearest chair and…well…you get the idea.

Great. Now I’m incredibly turned on. _“That’s not why you’re here, Lehane. Get it together,”_ I silently chastise myself.

I know I should be scavenging around the apartment for proof of the date, but I’m having a hard time tearing myself away from the sight of this little blonde. It’s not my fault that just looking at this woman gets me all hot under the collar.

I notice her yellow dress hanging over a chair, discarded but not forgotten. Instead, she’s traded it in for a small, tight, tank top and boi shorts – hand-me-downs, no doubt, from whomever’s apartment this is.

Wait a minute. _Whose apartment is this_?

I can feel the jealousy start to bubble throughout my body. Leave it to Buffy to find someone to shack up with, even in the fuckin’ future. _“Didn’t take her long, did it?”_ I silently steam.

My mind starts to race. I can’t believe Blondie can look so cavalier about all of this, about being stuck in the future, while we’re back in 2008 scrambling around to find a way to bring her back. I bet she’s even _happy_ that she’s here – she can finally retire, doesn’t have to worry about slaying or Twilight or apocalypses or me. In fact, I bet she doesn’t even wanna – _oh my god is she touching her breasts??_

My rant is quickly silenced when Buffy slips into the small hammock and starts to toy with her nipples through the thin material of her tank top. There aren’t any blankets or comforters, so I have an unobstructed view of her tight little body. Her eyes flutter close and the most delicious sigh escapes between her perfect pink lips.

My eyes are no doubt bulging outta my head at the sight. This might possibly be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my short, yet sordid life.

Her hands leave her small, but supple breasts and she runs them down the length of her body. One hand plays lazily with the strip of exposed bronzed skin between the bottom of her form-fitting camisole and the top of her low-cut shorts. The other disappears down the front of the patterned boi-cut briefs.

My knees nearly buckle beneath me when I hear that familiar wet click slice through the darkness. Damn, something’s got girlfriend wicked turned on.

Pulling her hand out of her shorts, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven when she brings her fingers to her mouth and briefly licks her own moisture from her slender digits. She slides her hands back down her lithe body again. This time she hooks her thumbs under the waistband and wiggles the shorts down her long, smooth legs.

I gotta remind myself to breathe again when she removes the offending material. My eyes are instantly rewarded with the sight of her perfect, shaved pussy. B’s hands are working overtime, one pinching a hardened nipple through the thin material of her tank top, the other sliding through her wet folds.

“Oh God, Faith. Yes…right there,” she moans softly into the night, her fingers continuing to flutter over her clit.

Okay, as if I didn’t have a big enough ego already, that little moan just sent me through the roof. Blondie’s masturbating and yours truly is the object of her fantasies. Hot damn, I’m good.

Not caring where I am or what my mission is supposed to be, I quickly unfasten the front of my tight jeans and seek out some kind of relief. My right hand slides down the inside of my underwear searching for my painfully sensitive clit. I moan when my fingertips bump against the bundle of flesh, not needing to stifle my noises because I know she can’t hear me. I suddenly remember she can’t see me either, so I shuffle a few steps closer to the hammock to get a better view of this half-naked goddess.

I bite my bottom lip hard and groan when I see her slide a finger deep inside her tight cunt. She spreads her legs further apart, her knees falling over the edges of the hammock to give herself better access. Her eyes close and she releases a low moan when she bottoms out. I’m trying not to think about the memory of how good she feels around my fingers because in this moment I want nothing more than to be her hands.

Buffy starts sliding her finger in and out of herself slowly, her wetness clicking with each thrust. Her breathing has become labored and I whimper just a little more when one finger is quickly replaced by two.

“Faith! Yes! Oh fuck, yes, Faith,” she chants. My girl’s really getting into it now. I can just make out a thin sheen of sweat forming on her forehead and hell if I don’t wanna dip down and lick the moisture from her brow.

“That’s it, baby,” I encourage her, despite knowing she can’t hear me and doesn’t know I’m standing over her. “Oh God, yes…finger that cute little pussy for me.”

I’m furiously rubbing my clit and struggling to remain standing. “God, B,” I breathe, allowing my eyes to wander over her half-naked body. “That’s so fucking hot. I wanna see you make yourself cum.”

As if answering my prayers, her body suddenly stiffens and she calls out into the empty darkness. “Faith, I’m cumming!” she yells. Her entire body goes rigid and she makes these little gurgling noises inside her throat as she rides out what has to have been a killer orgasm.

My orgasm follows shortly, shooting through my limbs and I almost collapse from the sheer intensity. I ease my hand out of my pants and wipe my moisture on the back of my pants.

It’s only then that I finally I hear it. Buffy crying.

It’s faint, but with my Slayer hearing I can just make it out. She’s rolled over on her side, facing away from me. Her naked legs are pulled up to her chest so she’s in the fetal position. And even in the darkness I can see her body softly shaking with each tortured sob.

I wanna crawl into that damn hammock and hold her. Wrap my body around hers until her tears have dried. I need to whisper to her that I’m there – that I’m coming to get her. But I know I gotta get back to business and actually do something to help before the rift opens later tonight and she’s really lost.

As much as it kills me to not be able to comfort her, I quickly zip up my pants and stride out of the bedroom, leaving her behind.

This not being able to touch things is really starting to piss me off. I can’t rifle through papers to look for a date on a letter and of course there’s no calendars hanging around to make this any easier. I can’t turn on the TV to watch the news. Wait, there isn’t even a TV. What kinda cheap hole is this? Even _I_ had a TV in Sunnydale. Didn’t necessarily get reception, but at least there was a box in the shape of a television in my shit-hole motel.

And then I see it. And I know suddenly what to do.

+++++++++++++++

I jump out of bed and rush down the hallway to the library where Willow, Xander, and Kennedy said they’d wait until I finished up. I bust into the room and they all look at me with these weird looks on their faces. I’m sure I’m glowin’ and shit from one helluva orgasm, courtesy of Buffy’s little show.

But even more than that satisfying orgasm, I’ve got another reason to smile.

Willow’s the first to talk. “Faith?”

It feels like the energy is pulsin’ off me in waves, I’m so juiced up.

“Red,” I ask, unable to mask my eagerness with my patented stoicism and distain. “How long does the standard curse last?”

She scrunches her face up a little. “Three hundred and eighty-seven years. Why?”

“Cause I know where she is,” I grin. “Or perhaps, more accurately, _when_ she is. Let’s get Buffy back.”

+++++++++++++++

TBC


	7. The Curse of Fred Merkle

**POV Faith**   
_Present day New York_

“Seriously, you couldn’t have been in your room for more than two minutes,” Xander observes. “How did you figure it out so quickly?”

“Two minutes?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows together. “I was definitely gone longer than that.” My mind wanders a bit, quickly remembering the helluva hot show I saw when I was in the Future. I might just have to ask Buffy for an encore performance when we get her back. “Okay, Lehane, stop it with the mind wandering,” I silently chastise myself.

“Huh,” Willow says looking interested. She brushes some strands of red out of her eyes. “Time must be moving faster where Buffy is. I wonder how long it feels like to her that she’s been gone.”

“So what’s up with all this curse talk?” Kennedy asks bluntly. Leave it to the bratty Slayer to get the conversation movin’ in the right direction.

I grin cheekily at them, proud of my detective work. “What’s the longest-standing curse in baseball?” I ask.

“Curse of the Billy Goat!” Xander blurts out, throwing his arms in the air triumphant.

I make a buzzer noise like he’s on a game show and just lost the big prize. “Good try, Xand. But no cigar for the one-eyed man.”

Xander sulks a little at the table and the brat and the witch look completely confused.

“History lesson for the day,” I start. “The Curse of Fred Merkle.”

“Merkle?” Kennedy asks skeptically.

“Yeah,” I snap, glaring at her. “Now stop interrupting or I’ll never get this out.”

I take a deep breath and start the story.

“On September 23rd 1908, the Chicago Cubs and the New York Giants played for the National League pennant. The game was tied, 1 to 1, bottom of the ninth. The Giants had Moose McCormick on third base and Fred Merkle on first with two outs. Al Bridwell hit a single into the outfield, scoring McCormick. It looks like the Giants had won, 2 to 1, so everyone started runnin’ onto the field, juiced up and celebratin’.”

Xander’s completely engrossed in my story, but Kennedy and Red look at me like I’m wastin’ their time. Not to be deterred, however, I continue on.

“Merkle headed off the field without reachin’ second base. Cubbies’ infielder Johnny Evers saw that Merkle didn't touch the base, so he finds the game ball and steps on second base. The ump calls Merkle out, nixin’ the winning run, and the game ends up being a tie.”

I see they’re still not getting where this is going, so I sigh and continue my lecture, more determined than ever. I know we don’t have much time until midnight – when the time rift is scheduled to reopen.

“The Cubs and Giants have to replay the game cause they finish the regular reason tied for first place. Chicago wins 4 to 2 and goes on to defeat Detroit in the World Series – a Series,” I point out, “they wouldn’t have been in without taking advantage of Fred Merkle. Cubbies haven’t won a World Series since – hence, the Curse of Fred Merkle.”

“How come you know so much about baseball?” Xander asks, unable to mask how impressed he is with me. Yeah, I got mad skills. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s hiding something underneath the table right now.

“I dunno, Xand-man. Maybe the more important question is, why don’t you?” I smirk, feeling proud of myself. My family might have been a bunch of psychotic, alcoholic misfits, but we Bostonians know our baseball.

“So what do the Chicago Cubs have to do with finding Buffy?” Willow asks, obviously not gettin’ the relevance of my obscure baseball trivia. Seriously, I thought all lesbians dug sports?

“When I was there, in the Future, I saw a game program,” I tell them. “There wasn’t a date or anything on it that I could see, but it said the Cubbies were playing the Haddyn Radies…whatever the hell that means. Must be some future expansion team,” I shrug. “The way I figure, the Curse of Merkle has got to be over. So, add that number…”

“Three hundred and eighty-seven,” Willow supplies.

“Right, and so we’ve got our year...uh…” I do some quick mental math. “2395.”

The three still look skeptical, and hell, even I’m not entirely convinced it’s gonna work.

“It’s our best shot, okay?” I insist shrilly as I rub at my temples. “Portal’s gonna be re-opening in just a few minutes, so we’d better get in position. Red, do your mojo with October 2395 programmed into your time machine or whatever.”

Willow looks thoughtful. “This might actually work,” she finally admits. “And even if Buffy’s not there, at least we don’t have to worry about yanking Grandma Buffy out of the Future.” She nods, indicating I’ve got her vote.

I grin wide. “Totally. ‘Cause fuck – even though she’s already come back to life twice, I don’t think Blondie’s gonna be living that long.”

“If she’s not there, when’s our next opportunity to find her?” Xander asks the redheaded witch.

“The rift won’t naturally re-open for a few years at least,” Red says somberly. “But, I’m sure I could figure something else,” she insists quickly. “Let’s just hope this works out though. Messing with temporal rifts isn’t exactly how I want to spend Thanksgiving.”

++++++++++++++++++++  
 _Somewhere in the Future_

“Man, this never gets old,” the blonde breathed as she sunk her wooden stake deep into the vampire’s chest. She stood still for a moment, enjoying the satisfaction as the creature exploded into dust.

The Future and Past Slayer fought side-by-side against a group of vampires. The two women had followed a small clan of the undead to a high-rise crypt in a more desolate and abandoned part of Haddyn. The fighting-duo had fallen into an easy rhythm, picking off the demonic creatures one-by-one. Buffy couldn’t help but think about how she and Faith had once had this kind of natural fighting chemistry back in Sunnydale before everything had become so complicated.

“Where are the Madwoman and Harth shacked up?” Melaka growled, holding the remaining vampire off the ground by the collar of its grubby shirt. The creature’s feet dangled uselessly in the air.

“Slayer! I-I was told there was only one of you!” the undead monster sputtered as it looked anxiously between the two powerful women.

Melaka dropped the creature and shoved it toward the elder Slayer. Buffy immediately knocked the vampire onto its back with a roundhouse kick to the head. “Must be your lucky day then,” the blonde rasped darkly.

Buffy straddled the vampire and pressed her wooden stake against the demon’s chest. “I’ll only ask you one more time,” she warned, pushing the weapon into the creature’s skin. “The Madwoman. Tell me where she is.” Her eyes were wild and threatening, the lust of the kill pulsing through her veins.

“If I tell you, you’re just gonna kill me,” the undead monster protested smugly.

Buffy smiled sweetly between clenched teeth, quickly becoming impatient with this demon’s attitude. “Tell me and I’ll let you go,” she promised. “Scouts honor.”

The vampire paused as if considering its limited options. “There’s a building at the Rocky Center on 44th and 5th. You’ll find her there.”

Buffy stood up and put her stake in the waistband of her jeans. She glanced in Melaka’s direction. “Your turn,” she stated lightly.

The vampire scrambled to its feet. “What? But you said –,” it complained, before losing its head to the Slayer scythe. The body crumpled to the ground and blasted into a cloud of fine dust.

Buffy looked down at the pile of vampire dust and gave it a little kick with the toe of her boot. “Never said anything about what Fray would do to you,” she muttered.

+++++++++++++++++  
 _Present day New York_

“So in theory, when the rift opens, it’s gonna take you to Buffy. And Faith, I can’t stress that enough – in theory. I’ll do my best to make sure you’re not like a billion feet in the air when you come out of the portal, but…” the redheaded woman trailed off. She hated the uncertainty behind this spell.

Faith set her jaw and gave the witch a determined look. “Do what you have to, Red; I’m still going in to get her.”

+++++++++++++++++  
 _Somewhere in the Future_

Melaka Fray parked the flying car in a dark alley, leaving the machine hovering silently near a grouping of dumpsters. She waved slightly at the blonde seated beside her, indicating they had reached their destination and it was time to move.

The two women crept stealthily through a vast garden of statues and fountains using their Slayer senses to reach out for potential threats. They weaved between gnarled, dead trees creeping closer to the tall, menacing skyscraper at the opposite end of the small, desolate park. What had once been lush greenery and an impressive garden of statues was now an empty shell.

A growling from above alerted the blonde woman first. She looked up just in time to see hordes of vampires raining down on them like an evil, undead snowstorm. The monsters must have been hiding in the shadowed ledges above. “Damn it,” the ancient Slayer swore under her breath. “Ambush.”

The vampires strategically separated the two women, quickly surrounding the Slayers, circling them and growling like a pack of wild dogs. With years of slaying and the memory of every fight every Slayer before her had ever experienced, the golden-haired woman easily defeated most of the snarling monsters around her. Buffy looked over and became suddenly alarmed when she realized her slaying partner was not having such an easy time. The younger girl was completely surrounded by a herd of vampires, yet her face showed no sign of defeat or fear as she clenched tightly to the scythe.

The sound of a loud crack made both Slayers instinctively take a defensive fighting position and caused the vampires to momentarily pause in their attack. A green-glowing whirlpool of light formed close to street level, flashing and pulsing as it stretched wider, sucking at everything in the immediate vicinity. A leather- clad brunette somersaulted out of the hole, landing on her knees. She stood up quickly and brushed the dust from her leathers and took stock of her surroundings, hefting her weapon in one hand.

And then their eyes met. Dark chocolate and hazel-green.

Buffy took the opportunity to sink her wooden stake into the chest of another vampire who was momentarily distracted by the glowing-green whirlpool. The weapon cracked between two ribs, finding its unbeating target and the monster blasted into a cloud of fine dust.

Faith jogged lightly over to where the lost woman stood. She didn’t know if she should embrace the elder Slayer or punch her for the emotional roller coaster she had endured the past few days because of the blonde. “Buffy!” she shouted, yelling over the sound of the swirling temporal rift. “We gotta bounce. I don’t know how much longer this hole’s gonna be open!”

“I can’t leave now,” Buffy yelled in protest. “I’m not leaving Fray to deal with all of this!”

“Who the fuck is Fray?” Faith growled loudly, clenching onto her scythe almost instinctively.

Buffy grabbed the dark Slayer’s chin and pointed her face in the direction of the woman who continued to fight for her life against a herd of drooling vampires.

Faith looked over at the rift that could potentially close at any moment, and then back again towards the woman who clung desperately to her own Slayer scythe as well as her life. It suddenly made sense. The Future. This world’s Slayer.

“Ah, fuck,” Faith mumbled. She took a few strides towards the contained battle, her feet moving quickly until her walk turned into a full-out sprint. Faith launched herself on the back of a vampire and separated the snarling creature from the youngest Slayer. Using the deadly blade of her own scythe, she quickly separated the vampire’s head from its undead neck.

Buffy quickly ran over to the skirmish as well and joined the other two Slayers. The three fighters wordlessly formed a makeshift triangle, their backs facing each other in a defensive formation.

Melaka landed a well-aimed boot in the center of one of the vampire’s chests, causing it to stumble backward, affording her more space between herself and the other advancing demons. The purple-haired woman grabbed onto another vampire and easily tossed it hard into a concrete statue, rendering it temporarily unconscious. She glanced briefly at the leather-clad brunette, who was now exchanging blows with a particularly wide-set lurk. The future Slayer, however, appeared neither fazed by the dark woman’s sudden appearance nor troubled by the existence of an identical scythe. Buffy had told her that Faith Lehane was now the Chosen One – she certainly needed no introduction.

Three Slayers were too much for an ever-dwindling group of vampires and in a few moments, the powerful women had defeated the remaining demons. Buffy brushed some vampire dust from the tight top and ripped jeans Melaka had lent her. Although her yellow dress had been ideal for a weekend getaway to New York City, it was a slightly impractical frock for defeating evil.

“Well that was interesting,” she muttered to herself. “Vampires are getting all organize-y. That’s a world of bad.” She turned to look at Faith. “How did you find me?”

The dark Slayer cracked her neck to the side and hefted her scythe onto her shoulder. “What can I say, B? I’m wicked talented.” She smiled broadly and wiggled her eyebrows at the blonde, causing a slight blush to creep onto the smaller woman’s chiseled cheeks.

As if suddenly remembering her manners, the blonde made an excited gurgling noise in the back of her throat. “Oh! Faith, this is Fray,” she introduced. “She’s this world’s Slayer.”

Faith eyeballed the youngest Slayer critically. Melaka crossed her toned arms across her chest, feeling slightly intimidated to be in the presence of both Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane, although her face and body image did not mirror her inner insecurities.

The brunette looked back and forth between the Past and the Future Slayer, a glimmer of jealousy and possession apparent in her eyes. The tattooed and purple-haired woman certainly had the “bad girl” image going for her, and Faith wasn’t sure she liked the thought of Buffy having been stranded in the Future with her, regardless of how long. Melaka Fray coughed uncomfortably under the dark Slayer’s judgmental stare.

“As much as I’d love to compare notes and maybe get the skinny on all the upcoming Super Bowls,” the Boston girl finally commented, “we’ve got a time portal to catch, Buffy.”

The blonde looked up wistfully at the looming skyscraper in the area that had once been Rockefeller Center. “The Madwoman,” she remembered. “I still don’t know…”

“Tick-tock, Blondie,” Faith interrupted, nodding in the direction of the rapidly closing portal.

Buffy looked from the mystic gate and back to the face of the Future Slayer. She grabbed onto Melaka’s free hand with her own. “I’m gonna make this right, Fray. I promise.”

The purple-haired Slayer shrugged noncommittally. “I can handle myself, Buffy. Don’t worry about me. I’m just…” She paused. “I’m thankful I got to meet you. Makes me realize I’m not as alone as I thought.”

Buffy gave the young girl a quick hug, garnering her an uncomfortable and astonished reaction from Melaka. A pang of jealousy briefly rumbled in the Boston Slayer’s stomach. “Bad touching,” the brunette growled to herself.

Buffy grinned briefly at the youngest Slayer’s unease and then looked back at dark Slayer who brooded from a distance. “I’m ready now,” she stated.

Faith nodded once in the direction of the youngest Slayer, silently acknowledging her efforts. She took the blonde’s hand possessively in her own and the two elder Slayers walked through the temporal rift, leaving the future Slayer to fight her own battles.

+++++++++++++++++++++  
 _Present day New York_

“Yes, Xander. Flying cars. But before you get too excited, it was more like the evil Jetsons.”

Xander, Willow, Kennedy, Buffy, and Faith sat around the conference table at the New York headquarters. Across the ocean, Giles sat in on the conference call from the Scotland castle. For the past half an hour, Buffy had captivated the group’s attentions with tales of her experiences in the Future.

“I think we need to reopen the portal,” she posed. “Fray’s in over her head. There’s far too much evil for one Slayer to deal with by herself. I could go with a small group of Slayers to help her out,” the blonde suggested.

The New York group could almost hear Giles remove his glasses from his face. “This is exactly the kind of thing that you must divorce yourself from, Buffy,” he insisted. “Opening the portal – sending you back to the Future – it could be cataclysmic. You could be playing right into this ancient woman’s dark plans.”

The English Watcher paused, thinking. “We must also take into consideration that this Madwoman created this scenario of you ending the world as a ruse to pit Melaka Fray against you.” He sighed deeply. “You may not agree with me, but I believe the safest option is for you to return to Cleveland and the Hellmouth.”

“Giles,” Xander reasoned, talking into the speakerphone. “Wouldn’t it be better if Buffy came back to Scotland with us? I mean, just so we could keep an eye on her?”

“I don’t need a babysitter or someone to analyze every decision I make, Xander,” the blonde snapped. “I’ve been saving the world since I was sixteen. I think I can handle one little Hellmouth on my own.”

An awkward silence fell among the group of strained friends. Buffy had been less than cordial with the three individuals responsible for her jaunt to the Future. To their credit, Willow and Kennedy had remained relatively quiet during the conference call, both afraid of speaking out of turn for different reasons – Willow for betraying her best friend and Kennedy out of fear that she would lose her recent New York appointment.

Finally Buffy spoke again, her voice defeated. “Giles is right. I should get back to Cleveland. If I stay retired, there’s less of a chance that I’ll do something to destroy the world as we know it. Plus I’m still not done unpacking yet at my new apartment.”

The blonde glanced in the direction of the dark Slayer, trying to gauge her reaction to her words. Faith sat at the head of the conference table, her arms crossed, her feet propped up on the table, her face dark and disinterested. Ever since Buffy had been back, the brunette had seemed slightly distant.

“Aw, c’mon, Buff,” Xander interrupted her thoughts. “You’ve saved the world tons of times; shouldn’t you get to destroy it every once in a while?”

“Says the guy who saved the world with a yellow crayon,” Buffy smirked.

+++++++++++++++++++++  
 **POV Faith**  
 _New York_

“Greyhound bus, number three-four-eight-nine, now boarding.” The announcement crackles over the bus station’s PA system. Buffy looks down at the bus ticket clenched in her hand.

“That’s you, huh?” I rasp. She nods and stands up from the plastic molded chair, hefting her small duffle bag in her other hand.

My voice sounds like I just smoked a pack of Marlboro Reds. Probably will when she leaves. Again. I’ve got to stop getting my hopes up when it comes to this woman. She’s either getting sucked into hell dimensions or scampering away to Cleveland. My heart’s getting a little sore from all this tramplin’.

“Ya know we coulda gotten you an airplane ticket, or a train ticket, or the Willow express,” I insist, standing up as well. Somehow the image of Buffy Summers on a bus back to Cleveland just ain’t workin’ in my mind. It seems beneath her. Just fine for me, but not her.

“I’m fine, Faith. I’m a big girl.” She looks toward the door where other passengers have begun to exit to board the westbound bus. “Plus,” she continues, “with my most recent time-traveling adventures, I’m kinda looking forward to taking it slow on the bus.”

I nod, finally giving in.

She looks down at her feet and shuffles them around a bit. I can tell she wants to say something, but it’s not coming out easily. She clears her throat and looks up finally. Her eyes look a little watery, surprising me.

“Maybe…maybe we shouldn’t see each other for a while,” she whispers. “I don’t want to influence your decision-making and accidentally blow up the world.”

My jaw drops and I can feel myself getting angry. She’s not allowed to stop this thing between us. That’s supposed to be my gig. “Fuck that, B,” I growl. “I just got you back. I don’t wanna lose you again.” There I go again, letting my heart do the talking.

“Lose me? Did you have me before?” she challenges lightly.

I can feel the blush creepin’ up on my face. “You-you know what I mean.”

I idly scratch at the back of my neck. I don’t wanna ask, but I gotta. The not knowing is tearin’ me up. “You and Fray. Did you guys…I mean…you were all shacked up together in the Future…and I guess, I can’t be pissed cause it’s not like we’re together or nothing, but…” I stop when I feel a soft hand on my bare forearm. I’ve really gotta stop channeling Red when I’m around this woman.

“Fray and I didn’t sleep together if that’s what you’re asking, Faith.” Her words are soft, just like her skin, and her gaze is solid and steady.

I release a shaky breath, trying to ignore the heat her simple touch has generated. Fuck, I’m all kinds of insecure. “I’m all for us taking this slow,” I start. “Or whatever we’re doing. But, I don’t wanna just stop all together – go cold-turkey, ya know?”

“So you’re saying I’m like a bad addiction?” she deadpans, looking hard into my eyes.

“Oh! Come! On! Can I not win with you?” I exasperate, throwing my hands in the air, not caring that our little discussion has won us some glances from the other patrons at the New York station.

I’m ready to pull my hair out by the roots. That smirk on her face tells me she’s joking, but I’m in no mood to play right now. “What if you staying in Cleveland is what destroys the world?” I can’t help the whine that’s crept into my tone. Shit. What’s happened to me?

Buffy gives me a skeptical look. “How much damage can I do in Ohio, really?”

I shrug. “Well, it is a Hellmouth.” She’s still not convinced. “But really, B. What if you staying retired is this Big Mistake? What if you turning everything over to me is what destroys the world?” Not gonna lie. Ever since she’s been back and told us about the disaster that is The Future, that singular thought has been hauntin’ me nonstop.

Buffy looks anxiously toward the bus station exit. I know we shouldn’t be having this convo right here, right now when she’s got a bus to catch; but it’s comin’ out now, all this verbal vomit, and I can’t hold it back any longer. I’d tried to detach myself from all this drama when she came back from the Future and announced she’d be returning to Cleveland. But try as I might, I just can’t quit her.

“I won’t lie and say that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” she admits. “But the timing is all off.” She shakes her head a little, thinking. “Why wouldn’t I have been kidnapped before I gave you the scythe? If that’s my major, world-altering mistake, whoever arranged to suck me into the Future would have tried to kill me weeks ago. Think about it, Faith,” she continues. “If I had stayed in the Future or was killed, you would still be the Number One Slayer. I haven’t made the mistake yet. Which means, I can still save the world…by staying retired.”

“Last call for bus number three-four-eight-nine, nonstop service to Cleveland, Ohio.” That voice is seriously starting to aggravate me.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. She’s looking expectantly at me, as if waiting for permission to leave. Not caring that we’re in public, not caring that she’s broken my heart more times than I can count, I grab her small waist in my hands, pull her body into mine, and crush my mouth against hers.

When I pull away, her face is flushed and her breathing heavy. “Still wanna take a break, B?” I ask, a smug smile crawling onto my lips.

“Shut up,” she breathes, and her mouth is back on mine in an instant. My breath hitches in my throat when I feel her fingers tangle themselves tight in my curls.

Reluctantly she pulls away, sensing the bus won’t wait forever. She picks up her nearly forgotten bag and gives me a shy smile. “I’ll call you,” she murmurs. Placing a final, soft kiss on my swollen mouth, she turns and leaves the depot to board her ride to the Cleveland Hellmouth.

My mouth twists into a smile and I lightly touch my fingertips to my lips, still feeling her heat and tasting her on me. When I finally see her lithe form fade into the crowd, I turn lightly on my heels and to head back to HQ. Time to get back to the real world.

+++++++++++++++++++++

 **POV Faith**   
_Scotland_

“Yo, Andy!” I holler down the long corridor. The nerd pokes his head out of one of the doorways. Is he wearing eyeliner? I shake my head to myself. This kid is whack.

After bidding our goodbyes to Kennedy and the New York slay-girls, Willow transported herself, Xander, and me back to the Scotland castle. After emptying the contents of my stomach, curtesy of the Willow-express, I’m now on a mission to find Buffy’s half-horse sister.

“You bellowed, Dark Slayer?” His voice is low and I guess he’s trying to sound mysterious or something. I roll my eyes. Ever since Sunnydale fell, Andrew always has some dorky new nickname for me nearly every week. Guess I’m back to being “dark.”

“Where’s Dawn?” I ask him impatiently. “I wanna tell her about Buffy. Got her back from the Future and all that.”

The geek looks a little embarrassed and flustered for some reason. “She’s, um,” he stammers. “Swimming.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Swimming? Our Friend Flicka’s takin’ a bath or something?”

“No. She, uh, made her final transformation.”

I slap a hand to my forehead. “Oh great…” I mutter. “Now what is she? Some kinda porpoise?”

“Nope,” he grins wide. “Even better.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Mermaid.”

Oh sweet lord. I can’t help the goofy grin that’s creeping onto my face.

“Bring me to Ariel. This I gotta see.”

+++++++++++++++  
TBC


	9. Twilight

**POV Faith**

“Did ya think you were the only one who could do this?”

I look up from my seat on the couch and my breath catches in my throat when I see Buffy walk into the room. Her hair is tossed back in a messy ponytail and she’s just wearing cotton pajama pants and a small tank top. She coulda been dipped in chocolate and not have looked anymore delicious though.

I smirk at the smug, proud look on her face. “Nah,” I breeze casually. “I knew it would only be a matter of time before you figured out how to do it too.”

She grins and plops down next to me on the red leather couch, curling her legs up so her sock-less feet are pressed tight against my bare thigh. “What are you doing, anyway?” she asks, focusing on the large flat-panel TV in front of us.

“Uh, multi-tasking?” I stammer, a little embarrassed. Why do I feel like she just caught me masturbating or like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar?

She looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. Her face shows her amusement at my expense. “So you’re sleeping and catching up on sports at the same time. God, you’re weird.”

“What?” I protest, laughing. “I was kinda busy last year convincing psycho slayers not to off themselves or go on murdering rampages.” I grin at her and poke her in the ribs lightly with my elbow. “That’s commitment ya know? I coulda been watching my Bo Sox sweep the Rockies.”

“Very admirable indeed,” she nods and faces the TV again. “So do you mind if I hang?” she asks suddenly.

I shrug noncommittally, but my body is buzzing from her proximity.

She grins and presses her feet more solidly against my thigh, sending shivers to all the right places. “Well, it’s your Slayer dream,” she points out, “so I thought I’d be polite and ask first…don’t want to butt in.”

A small smile curls onto my lips. “If this was really my dream, I wouldn’t just be watching sports with you, B.”

She takes my verbal cue and gracefully maneuvers her lithe body until she’s facing me, straddling my lap. She’s resting most of her paltry weight on her knees on the couch, but her backside is pressing deliciously against my upper thighs.

“So would this be a dream come true?” she murmurs, softly kissing the sensitive skin where my neck meets my collarbone. I feel a flood erupt between my legs and I’m silently thankful that this red leather couch is only in my mind; my cotton boxers are doing nothing to soak up my arousal.

I close my eyes, allowing my head to fall back and rest against the soft material of the couch. I’ve never been much of a bottom, but I’ll do anything for this woman.

“I never got to thank you for bringing me back from the Future,” she mumbles into my skin. She drags her top teeth across my pulse point.

“Anytime, B,” I manage to pant, squeezing my thighs together.

Her hands move from her sides to the soft swell of my braless chest, cupping their weight in her small, feminine hands. She rhythmically brushes her thumbs against my hardening nipples, causing the cotton of my tank top to scratch and rub against the sensitive tips. Pleasure shoots through my body and I swear my nipples must be connected to my throbbing clit.

Something Dawn said is suddenly popping into my brain. What the hell?

“Dawn – she,” I stammer, trying to keep my voice from cracking as Buffy continues to lick and nip at my sensitive neck.

“I know,” she mumbles against my skin. “Xander told me. Mermaid.”

I grab at the hands that are beginning to squeeze my breasts through my tank top, and I still her movements. Buffy stops kissing my neck and gives me a puzzled look. She throws out her bottom lip in an irresistible pout. “Why are we talking about my sister when we could be necking like horny teenagers?”

I stare at her bottom lip, wanting to latch onto it with my teeth. I shake my head, trying to erase that visual from my mind. “It’s just…” I start, not really knowing what I’m trying to say or accomplish in this moment. “What are we doing here? I mean, you and me, and the kissing and the touching…”

She scrunches her eyebrows together, still sitting on my lap. “I think it’s called sex. And multiple orgasms. But I could be wrong; I haven’t read all the literature yet.”

I groan a little, feeling her wiggling impatiently in my lap. I grab roughly onto her thighs and it takes all the willpower I can muster to not take advantage of her. Why the hell am I holding back?

“B – Buffy. I just mean, what is this thing between us? Is this just sex? Just a slayer thing?”

She sighs and makes a move like she’s going to stand from my lap. I tighten my hold on her thighs and when she opens her eyes again that eyebrow is still raised.

“We can have a conversation with you still on my lap, can’t we?” I ask innocently, grinning from ear to ear.

She lightly brushes away the hair that’s fallen across my forehead with the tips of her fingertips and looks deep into my eyes. I want to kiss her, but I also know we need to talk. “I’m not sure what you want, Faith,” she admits finally.

I kind of blink hard and I’m sure confusion is plastered on my face. “What I want? I thought I made that perfectly clear, B,” I insist, holding the tops of her thighs tightly in my hands. “I want you.”

She smiles softly and nods. “Well that much I get. But, the other stuff. I mean….” She pauses, biting on her bottom lip. “Do you want me to tell my friends about us? Do you want a t-shirt that says, ‘Buffy and I do the nasty?’”

I frown despite her weak attempt at humor. Although a t-shirt would be pretty kick-ass.

“Fuck, B. I don’t know. I mean, I want this.” I motion with my hands between our close bodies. “I want this relationship to work. And I don’t know if adding more people to the mix – letting the Scoobies know what’s up – is gonna just complicate it all.”

She nods knowingly and squints her eyes in thought “How about this,” she starts as she wraps her hands behind my neck, affording me an eyeful of Buffy cleavage. “We go on a date.”

“A Slayer dream date?” I ask, not bothering to tear my eyes from her heaving chest. Blondie might not have much on top compared to me, but I’m certainly not complaining. More than a handful is a waste, anyways.

“No…I mean…next time I’m in Scotland or you’re in Cleveland. We go on a real date. How does that sound?”

I raise both my eyebrows and finally stop my ogling to look up into her hazel-green eyes. “Does that mean we can’t keep…uh...getting wriggly with each other like this?”

She entwines her fingers deep into my hair, her digits pulling near the roots. “What do you think, F?” she asks, her voice thick with desire.

I grin, looking into her lust-filled eyes, and crush my lips against her mouth in reply.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 **POV Faith**

“And we’re sure it’s him?”

Giles takes off his glasses and cleans them on his shirttails. “My source is reliable,” he informs me, his voice unwavering.

I give him an incredulous look. “Yea, well Willow thought her source was reliable too, and we almost lost Buffy; so let’s not assume anything, okay?”

Giles sighs and frowns before sitting down at the conference table in defeat.

“It could be a trap, yes,” he concedes somberly. “Perhaps the military hasn’t heard yet that Buffy is no longer in charge, and they believe the best way to flush her out is by sending word that he’s in trouble.”

I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose. This whole leadership and making decisions gig is getting really old, really quickly. I just want someone to point me in the direction of something I can kill.

“Someone get her on the phone,” I instruct sternly. “Now. She’s gonna wanna know about this.”

If it weren’t for the severity of the situation, I’d almost chuckle at how quickly these new slay-girls buzz around when I get all order-y. Makes a girl feel good on the inside.

Powerful.

When someone hands me the phone, it’s already ringing. I quickly walk into one of the corridors, not wanting any of the slay crew to be tempted to eavesdrop. They might be Slayers, but they’re still bratty teenagers with wicked bad habits.

The phone seems like it’s been ringing forever, and I’m getting slightly annoyed. Where the hell could she be at this hour? I mean, it’s not like I flatter myself with the idea that she’s miserable in Cleveland and just moons by her phone hoping I’ll give her a call.

Okay, maybe just a little. But then again, I’ve always been a tad delusional, especially when it comes to her.

I’m about to hang up when someone finally picks up the phone. “Hello?” Her voice is breathy like she just ran a great distance to get to the receiver. My heart flip-flops a little and a lump forms in my throat, getting in the way of my words. “Hello?” she asks again.

I still can’t talk cause she always turns me into a bumbling idiot, more so lately than usual.

“Faith? Is that you?” she asks. I can almost hear the smile in her voice.

I clear my throat and finally am able to split out a grunt that could be interpreted as a “yes.”

“Sorry it took me so long to answer the phone. You caught me just out of the shower,” she explains. My thoughts instantly go into the gutter, picturing her slender, toned body, naked…dripping wet…I – God damn it, Lehane.

“Uh, thanks for the visuals, B,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “But gotta say, my call’s more business than pleasure.”

“And I can’t have both?” she pouts.

I feel my throat tensing up again like it does when I get really turned on. Buffy and I haven’t…been intimate in far too long and it’s really starting to get painful. Sure the shared Slayer dreams are awesome, but I wanna be able to really touch and taste her skin. But I just gotta breathe…can’t let her distract me…gotta tell her what’s up.

“Word on the street is that your old boy-toy’s in trouble,” I announce unceremoniously.

I check out my cuticles casually and suddenly realize that I’m talking to her on the phone. I don’t need to act so stoical and put up a visual front to guard my emotions – she can’t see me. But fuck, I can’t help myself; having to talk about this with her is giving me the major wiggins. She and I never talked about him…after what I did.

“You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that,” she quips dryly.

I grimace, preparing myself for the worst. “It’s your soldier boy. Riley,” I say, wincing at the words. “We got intell that the military’s got him cooped up in their prison for disobeying orders. Looks like the Initiative is back to business, wanting to contain and capture demons. Apparently your G.I. Joe and his squad were disobeying orders…killing ‘em instead of capturing ‘em, so now he’s in lockdown.”

She’s quiet and it makes me all kinds of uneasy in my stomach.

“Listen,” I continue quickly, needing to fill the silence. “I know this is just gonna bring up all sorts of bad stuff from before. With – with the whole body swappin’ business… but I wanted you to know.” I run my fingers through my hair – a nervous habit. “It could be a trap, too, we’re thinking,” I ramble. “Just a way for the military to get you out of hiding. Either way though, the decision is yours –.”

“No it’s not,” she cuts me off quickly. “Faith,” she breathes. “I meant it when I said I’m retired. I’m doing this Hellmouth-Cleveland thing just to stay involved. I’d probably go insane if I didn’t get to slay,” she admits. “But I don’t want to be making decisions like this.” She pauses for a moment. “I appreciate you wanting my input, but this is all you now. So go in, guns blazing, or let Riley deal with his own consequences. It’s your decision.”

I’m kinda stunned by her response. Totally didn’t see that coming. “And you’re sure this has nothing to do with the fact that soldier boy’s all married?” I tease lightly.

She makes a little noise in the receiver and I know I’m messing with an exposed nerve. But that’s always what I’ve done best – piss off Buffy.

Okay, maybe second best.

+++++++++++++++++++

“This is merely a retrieval mission, ya got it?” Faith warned the handful of slayers who surrounded her on the rooftop of the nondescript government building. The small group had stealthily climbed the outer walls and reached the roof without being detected.

“Despite what kinds of demons or creatures you see in there,” she instructed the group, “do not abort the mission and go on a killing spree.” Faith flashed the young women around her a threatening look. “Otherwise you’ll have me to deal with afterwards.”

The small group nodded somberly in understanding and pulled their black masks over their faces. Xander had insisted they complete the mission Next Generation style, rather than Faith’s traditional m.o. of breaking-and-entering.

Faith touched at her earpiece. “Xander, we’re about ready to crash this party; how’s shutting down their security systems coming?”

“I told you not to use my real name over this! Our line could be compromised!” the former carpenter lamented, his voice panicked.

Faith rolled her eyes and laughed darkly. “Okay. Nick Fury, what’s the 411 on that security system?”

“Security shut down in 15 seconds, Dark Phoenix. You’ll have five minutes to locate the package…”

“I’m not doing anything with Riley’s package,” interrupted the slayer. She snickered when she heard Xander’s uncomfortable gurgling across the connection.

“And after five minutes, then what?” she continued, impatiently.

“A really big boom,” Xander explained from the safety of the castle’s control room. “ So you’d better get your squad outta there, ASAP.”

“Rodger that.”

“Get ready, Phoenix. You’re go in 4, 3, 2, 1…” the boy instructed.

A soft clicking noise alerted the squadron that the rooftop fire-exit was now unlocked. Faith pulled her own mask over her face and quickly glanced at her digital watch. Five minutes before the big boom.

She crept over to the door and silently opened it, peering down the empty stairwell. She looked behind her towards her slayer squad and wordlessly indicated for them to follow. The team moved quickly, padding down the stairwell towards the basement. Willow’s locator spell indicated that Riley, and presumably his soldiers, were being held in the sublevel.

Upon reaching the lower level, the brunette grimaced when she saw the outer keypad locking the entrance to the basement. They didn’t have time for all these obstacles. She spoke into her headset again. “Xander…I mean, Nick Fury. We’ve got another lock.”

“I’m on in, Phoenix. Just a few more seconds.”

“I’m standing on a ticking time bomb, Xander,” she growled lowly. “If you wanted me dead, you coulda just said so.”

The red light on the keypad suddenly flashed green and the door hissed open.

“Aw, c’mon Fearless Leader. Can’t take the heat?” Xander lightly joked from afar.

“You’re getting a swirlie and a Slayer-strength wedgie when I get back,” the Boston woman stated.

“I’ll unlock all the other doors for you,” Xander quickly promised.

Faith smiled broadly underneath her mask. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The rogue slayer peered around the door and spied two inept guards standing at attention further down the hall. Faith motioned for the tranquilizer-gun. Taking careful aim, she lightly pulled the trigger twice and smiled a satisfied grin as both men easily crumpled to the ground. The brunette handed the gun back to her beta commander and slid through the door and into the empty basement hallway with the other slayers following closely behind.

They cautiously walked down a long, dark corridor. Glassed-in prison cells flanked the group on either side. In each room paced a different breed of demon or undead creature, being held against its will. Faith looked behind her and her eyes flashed a warning reminder for none of them to go off the mission. They would have time to deal with the Initiative later.  
The group reached a cell that had no windows, just one small glass frame above a metal door. Faith peered through the window and saw a man sitting on a cot with his head in his hands, his broad shoulders hunched forward.

“Xander,” Faith breathed. “One more door to unlock. It’s Riley’s cell. Room L36. And don’t get the wrong door cause we’re surrounded by monsters down here.”

“On it.”

The dark woman closed her eyes momentarily, waiting for the door to unlock, as all the painful memories flooded back. Peering through Giles’ apartment window to see Buffy snuggled up so close to this hunk of wasted meat. Riley’s naked torso hovering above her, saying that he loved her – saying that he loved Buffy.

The door clicked open, awaking the Boston girl from her dreary remembrances. “I don’t have time for this,” she told herself as she opened the cell door. They had only a few more minutes until the building exploded. She would have to save her anger for later.

Riley looked up at the masked woman gratefully as she used her Slayer strength to easily snap the handcuffs that bound his hands together. His large eyes twinkled with something that made the dark slayer’s skin crawl under her form-fitting body suit.

“Thanks, Buffy,” he grinned. “I knew somehow you would find out what had happened to us.”

Faith grabbed at the bottom of her dark ski mask and pulled it off her head, shaking out her long brown tresses.

“No problem, lover-boy.”

Riley’s face fell, unable to hide his surprise. The dark slayer was supposed to be in prison, not helping him escape. Faith grinned cheekily at his stunned reaction.

“And call me ‘Buffy’ again, Beefcake, and you’ll wish I’d left you to rot in your cell. Now get a move on before we’re all blown to tiny pieces.”

+++++++++++++++++++++

 _Elsewhere…._

“You’re not going be happy about this, Sir.”

A uniformed soldier approached the dark figure and stiffly saluted before continuing.

“One of ours has joined her side,” the soldier stated. “Riley Finn. And he took some of our best demon-activity soldiers with him.”

The masked figure growled.

“This just keeps getting better and better,” Twilight complained loudly, slamming a fist on the metal railing. “First, the one I really want to crush retires. Now our own ranks are betraying us?!” The villain re-adjusted his mask slightly. “Looks like I’m going to have to raise the stakes a little.” He sighed, the annoyance creeping into his voice. “Time for me to meet this Faith Lehane character myself.”

++++++++++++++++++++++

“He thought you were Buffy?” snorted the mermaid in laughter. “That’s priceless. Shows how totally unobservant he really is. You and Buffy couldn’t have more opposite body types if you tried.” She snickered loudly. “Did he give you those big puppy-dog eyes?”

The dark slayer groaned loudly. “That’s disgusting, D. Let’s change the subject, yea?”

The Boston slayer and the mermaid chatted idly outside of the Scotland castle. Faith had made a real effort lately to spend more time with the young Summers girl, since in her current aquatic state, she was confined to the small castle’s moat. It wasn’t entirely her fault she kept turning into mystical creatures, after all.

Plus, Dawn was the only one who knew about Buffy and Faith’s fleeting attempts at a relationship. It was nice to have a sounding board to vent her frustrations onto.

After being saved by Faith and her small squad of newbie slayers, Riley and his troops had all agreed to align themselves with the Slayers. The small group of men had set up camp at the Scotland headquarters, unable to go home because of their fugitive status.

Although Riley still harbored negatives feelings for the new Slayer leader and was hesitant to help out an army of gifted women, he begrudgingly realized that the Slayers were fighting on the side of Good. The military’s latest betrayal was proof enough for him that he had once again chosen the wrong side.

“We gotta find some new digs for those soldiers. Like have Red conjure up some barracks or something,” Faith commented idly, playing with a blade of grass.

“Isn’t there enough room in the castle?” Dawn asked, flicking her tail in the water to create small ripples.

“Well, it is getting a little cozy in there,” Faith admitted, stretching out on the grass. “But I’m more worried about the combination of girly slayers and boy soldiers under the same roof.” She paused for effect. “As in…it’s not a good combination. I gotta get those boys outta the castle before I end up with an army of pregnant teenagers with superpowers.”

“Oh my God,” Dawn gushed. “Could you just imagine the raging hormones if that ever happened?”

Faith sat up and visibly shuddered at the thought.

Before the Boston slayer could respond to Dawn’s disturbing observation, she found herself being grabbed by strong hands and suddenly flying through the air. She twisted her body in her captor’s grip, expecting to see Willow or any of the other Wiccans who resided at the castle.

But her captor wasn’t a familiar face. In fact, he didn’t have a face at all.

She struggled slightly in the arms of the masked stranger. “I wouldn’t wiggle around too much, Slayer,” the man warned as they quickly flew through the air. “It’s a long way down and I doubt even your powers are a match for that.”

Faith allowed her eyes to drop down and she swallowed hard, noticing the miniature world beneath her for the first time. The world quickly rushed back into view, however, as the mysterious figure descended and the ground swelled up to meet them.

Twilight unceremoniously dumped the raven-haired slayer on the grassy knoll. Moving fluidly, Faith rolled forward and quickly found her feet. She launched herself at the dark figure as he landed, only to find herself knocked down to the ground by a strong fist to her square jaw.

“All you Slayers are so alike,” the villain laughed sardonically, shaking his hand out a little. “Punch first, ask questions later. Why do none of you realize I just want to talk? If I had wanted you dead,” the masked figure insisted, “you’d be planted six feet in the ground already.”

The Boston girl stood up, gingerly touching the side of her face. A bruise was going to surely form where the man’s clenched hand had met her face. She bent her knees slightly, holding a defensive position, not trusting the caped figure that stood before her.

“Now while I can appreciate all your little efforts to thwart evil,” Twilight continued, “it has been getting a little messy on both sides. Some of my favorite demons have been beheaded and maimed by your girls. And of course the casualties on your side,” he added as an afterthought.

“What is it with evil men who like to hear themselves talk?” Faith growled, her eyes flashing in anger. She clenched her fists tight.

The masked man rubbed his gloved hands together. “I want to propose a Battle Royale, Slayer. A fight to end all battles. Your Champion versus mine.”

Faith could almost see the man smiling underneath his mask.

“And to the winner goes the Fate of the World.”

++++++++++++++++++++++

TBC


	10. You Plus Me Equals Trouble

“What’s the matter, Slayer?” Twilight taunted. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”

Faith fell to her knees, feeling a strange wave of nausea flood her senses.

“Your Champion versus mine,” the masked man repeated coolly, unconcerned by the ashen look that had befallen the Chosen One. “Do we have a deal?”

The dark slayer pressed her palms into the damp grass, her eyes half-lidded. She felt the world shifting around her like she was being sucked into quicksand.

And then she found herself kneeling on the concrete castle floor.

“Thank Goddess,” Willow chirped in her ear. “Dawn started bellowing as soon as you’d been abducted. I was worried. Last time we had a run-in with Twilight, he beat up…” she hesitated on the name. “…Satsu…She was in pretty rough shape afterwards.”

The witch closed her eyes and shook her head a little before returning her gaze to the brunette slayer, still on her knees. “Are you okay, Faith? Do you need…you know…a barf bucket?”

The Boston girl swallowed hard and blinked a few times before focusing her eyes on the Wicca. “No, I, uhm, must be getting used to magic transports. I’m fine.”

Willow helped the young slayer to her unsteady feet. “What do you need me to do? Just say the word.”

Faith stood up straighter on her own, finding her strength quickly returning.

“Call Buffy and let her know that vacation time is over. It’s time for her to come out of retirement.”

++++++++++++++++++++

 **POV Faith**

Okay, so call me a stalker. I dare you. Or a voyeur. I don’t care.

I’m in my room – Buffy’s old room – staring out the window at her and her mermaid little sister. Willow flew her here a few hours ago, and after briefly reconnecting with the Scoobies, she’s been hanging out poolside with Dawn ever since.

But she hasn’t seen me yet. Course, it’s not entirely her fault. I have kinda been hidin’ and playin’ avoidance-girl. We’re comfortable around each other in the Slayer dreams, when it’s just the two of us. And I guess I’m just wicked skeptical that we’ll have that same kind of chemistry here in Scotland – here in the real world. Plus I know I should be worrying about this latest business with Twilight and all this talk about Champions.

But when she’s around, I can’t help myself. She’s all I can think about. Wanting to touch her. Taste her. Make her moan my name. Fuck. I’ve got it bad.

You’d think that after actually having sex with her, the mystique or whatever behind Buffy Summers would have worn off. I’ve seen her with bed head. I’ve kissed her when she’s had morning breath. And somehow, she still manages to get more and more perfect to me with every moment we spend together.

So yea, I’m chicken. But you can’t blame me though for thinkin’ I’m gonna fuck something up now that she’s really here.

My body tenses when I see him walk out onto the grass and stand next to Buffy. Someone needs to remind me why Captain Cardboard is still here, before I do something…Faith Lehane, circa-1999. Even from this distance I can see those puppy-dog mooneyes of his, and all I wanna do is break his nose with my fist and brand Blondie as my own. Claim. Possess. Conquer.

The wind is blowing so I can just make out a few snippets of their conversation through my open window. He and Sam have separated apparently; she wanted him to give up fighting demons, and he wasn’t ready to just be a regular soldier. I’ve got a nagging suspicion that it had something to do with girl named Buffy Summers.

B’s nodding politely, listening to him ramble on, but her body language is lookin’ a little awkward. Dawn looks annoyed that he’s busted up their sibling-bonding time; I’m crossing my fingers that she’ll go all Ursula on his ass or at least drench the corn-fed freak.

I should feel relieved that they’re not like making-out or something. But oddly enough, I don’t feel anything right now ‘cept mighty self-conscious. No one but Dawn knows about the two of us. What if Buffy’s changed her mind now that she’s back in Scotland and G.I. Lame is a bachelor again?

She’s turned her back on him, and it looks like she’s walking away for some reason.

“What’s the hurry, Buffy?” I hear him ask. “Got a hot date?” he awkwardly jokes.

An amused look crosses her angelic features, and she pauses in her exit. “Actually,” she says. “I do have a date, Riley.” She looks up at the castle and somehow knows that I’ve been watching her the entire time.

I suck in a deep breath, but don’t move away from the window. Uh-oh. Busted.

I feel the blush creeping onto my cheeks, but hell if I can’t help the grin that seems to have found its way on my face. I’ve got a date.

+++++++++++++++++++++

 **POV Faith**

I’m standing in the long hallway, staring at the closed door in front of me. I self-consciously rub my hands together nervously and shake them out at my sides like a sprinter preparing for a race. Finally, checking my courage, I knock on the door. I’m so nervous about this date; I actually practiced my knock beforehand. I don’t want it to sound too weak or timid, but don’t want it comin’ off all manly and aggressive, either.

The door instantly swings open and there she is. All blonde and tan and perfect. Do I kiss her? Hug her? Shake her hand?

Luckily she solves the dilemma for me when she wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me in for a long, gentle hug. I instinctively bury my face in her soft, blonde hair and breathe in deeply. For some reason our Slayer dreams are scentless, so I’m programming this moment into my brain and storing it for a rainy day.

Reluctantly I pull back from the soft embrace and award myself with a generous eyeful of my hot date. She’s straightened her hair, styling it so a few strands hang diagonally across her unlined forehead. Her make-up is subtle and feminine – just like she is.

B’s wearing the cutest little blue-checked sweater vest, over a crisp white button-up, with dark jeans. I don’t know if she’s trying to blend in with all the plaid and argyle around this joint, but it’s wicked cute on her. She kinda looks like a teacher in this outfit, actually. But not in a bad way. I’m definitely hot for teacher right now, and my mind is racing with role-playing scenarios. Put it back in your pants, Lehane.

“You look fantastic, B,” I gush like a prepubescent teen. Fuck, you’d think I’d never been a date before.

She gives me a slight leer, and I can feel her appreciate glance roam my body. Yea, I’m lookin’ pretty hot myself, I know. “You’re not so bad yourself, Slayer,” she smiles. B links her arm with mine and we leave the castle, the Scoobies, and slaying behind.

She grins at me as we walk, giving me a sideways glance. “Is it selfish of me to be happy that your brush-in with Twilight got me back to Scotland?”

I shrug, enjoying the way our arms seem to fit together so well like this. “Dunno, B. Is it selfish to want to be happy?”

“I guess no one’s dead yet,” she quips, smiling. “So I’ll stick with ‘No.’”

We reach our destination – a small thatch-roofed building at the base of the long, twisting gravel lane that leads to the castle. I had wanted to do something extra special for our first date, but since she’s here on such short notice, I had to settle for the local brewpub. I also wanted to impress her with the wicked new bike I had shipped from the States, but since it’s a clear evening, she insisted we walk.

“What’ll you ‘ave, lovies?” drawls the matronly woman behind the bar.

Buffy furrows her eyebrows and looks at me questioningly. “Am I supposed to order a Guinness or something?” she whispers to me.

I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. “B,” I tease her. “This isn’t your first time to Scotland, ya know. You lived here.”

She shrugs unabashedly, apparently not embarrassed by her lack of beer knowledge. “I was too busy defeating the forces of Evil, I guess. I didn’t have time to go to the pub.”

I smile and nod at the bartender. “We’ll have two pints of whatever wee heavy you have on tap.”

I’m kinda nervous; not gonna lie. I find myself drumming my fingers on the bar top. “So this Twilight business….” I start.

“Nope,” she shakes her head, her blonde locks floating in the air a little. “No shop talk tonight. Don’t you know it’s rude to talk about work on the first date?”

I cock an eyebrow at her. “Guess I didn’t get the memo, Twinkie. I just thought I wasn’t supposed to talk about exes.”

She scrunches up her face. “Oh. Well,” she hesitates. “I guess I’m a little rusty. I haven’t been on a real date since – “

I cut her off quickly, bumping my hip lightly into hers. “No exes, remember, B?”

She grins at me, that patented half-smile, and my stomach is instantly assaulted by mutant butterflies.

It’s still pretty early in the night and the pub’s not that crowded; but hell if I wanna spend all night makin’ with the small talk. Time to get this date moving.

“As much as I’d love to get you drunk and take advantage of that tight little body of yours…” I allow my eyes to rove her slight curves and I grin when I see the blush creep onto her beautiful face. “We should probably get a table and eat some real food.”

She nods and picks up her pint glass and begins to walk toward the dining hall. I can’t help myself. I might have just put my hand in the small of her back. Fuck, she’s sexy.

We settle down at our small table for two, and I give the menu a quick once over. “You’re not gonna think I’m a guy if I order for us?” I ask, jokingly.

She grins at me from behind the paper menu. “Faith,” she states, “You’re a little too…soft for me to ever mistake you for a man.”

Now it’s my turn to blush the way she’s ogling me. She saves me from my own embarrassment though. “Order away,” she insists, waving a hand in the air. “I’ve been living off of pizza and Thai takeout the past few weeks, so everything looks amazing.”

I give her a smile of my own, not quite pulling out the dimples to full-wattage. I’ll save those for later. “Don’t make me jealous,” I groan playfully. “It’s been far too long since I’ve had American pizza.” Damn. I haven’t felt this happy in…well…ever?

I look over the menu briefly, my eyes scanning the entrees. “Feeling adventurous?” I ask without looking up from our options.

She leans forward a little and drops her voice to little more than a murmur. “Ask me that question again later tonight.”

I swallow hard and manage to smile, but it feels like my heart just leapt into my throat. She grins at my reaction. “Just no haggis, okay?” She grabs her pint glass and takes a long pull.

Our waitress comes over after a while, a small notepad in hand. “Are you ladies ready to order?”

“Uh, yeah. We’re gonna start off with an order of Scotch woodcock,” I say smoothly, feeling like a native. “Then I’ll have the shepherd’s pie and she’s gonna have the stoved chicken with potato cakes on the side.”

The server nods her head as if approving of my choices. “Anything else?”

I take a quick peak at our options. “For dessert we’re gonna split some apple and bramble crumble.”

The waitress flashes me a quick smile and looks the two of us over. I don’t wanna venture what she’s thinking right now. We must look quite the pair – B in her preppy outfit and me in my dark leathers. “I’ll put your order in right away,” she says. “The woodcock should be out shortly.”

When our server waltzes away, Buffy’s giving me the eyebrow. “Woodcock?”

I grin mischievously and cluck my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Remember, B. Adventure.”

++++++++++++++++++++++

 **POV Faith**

 _Suggested listening: “Unusual You” - Britney Spears_

 _Didn’t anyone tell you  
you’re supposed to break my heart  
I expect you to  
so why haven’t you_

“So. Do I have to wait until the third date…?”

We’re standing outside her bedroom door and I don’t know where to put my hands, so I settle for cramming them into the back pockets of my leather pants.

“I think we can overlook that one little rule this time,” she smiles shyly, grabbing onto my elbow and leading me into her room.

The door closes and our mouths meet, tentatively, as if we haven’t done this a hundred times before. It’s like rediscovering her body even though I know it so well. But those were just Slayer dreams.

My mind briefly wanders, wondering if the PtB can see what we’ve been doing to each other in those dreams. Kinky. But I’m quickly jolted back to reality when I feel her tongue slide between my teeth and massage my tongue with her own.

This is not a dream. This is Heaven.

Our clothes are quickly abandoned, scattered across the floor like an odd patchwork quilt of cotton-blends and leather.

I gently guide her body down on the soft duvet comforter and allow my eyes to drink in her nakedness before taking a seat next to her reclined form. I run my right hand along the length of Buffy’s naked body and she arches her back to meet my touch.

But my body is trembling and she notices.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asks, sitting up. Her gorgeous hazel-green eyes are filled with concern.

“I-I don’t wanna mess this up, B,” I admit to her softly.

She gives me a sympathetic smile. When it comes to ruining relationships, we’re both guilty. Maybe that’s why the idea of she and I together makes so much sense.

Her hand moves up to touch the side of my face and I close my eyes, unable to hold back the sigh that leaves my lips. Her fingers tangle in my unruly mane and she pulls me in for a searing kiss. I used to think of myself like my hair – wild, chaotic, unmanageable. But she’s been able to turn this lion into a harmless kitten.

Her mouth is moving magically against mine. But as good as it feels, I need more. I need more of her touch. I need more of her body. I feel my confidence soar once again and I lay her back down on the bed. Her blonde hair fans out on the duvet, framing her angelic face like a golden halo. I don’t want this night to ever end.

I hover above her body, holding myself up with my arms and toes like a frozen push-up. I lean down to capture her lips again in a gentle kiss, and she moans into my mouth when she feels my naked breasts brush against her own chest. I can feel her hard nipples pressing into my skin and I shiver. I lower myself just a little more, still not resting all of my weight on top of her, even though I know she can take it.

I grind my naked sex into hers and groan when I feel her arousal spread against me. She’s always so fucking wet for me. I want to taste the source of her arousal, but I want to take my time tonight. I continue to slowly grind into her, moving my hips in small circles.

“Fuck, baby. That feels so good,” she moans softly. She’s rubbing the bottoms of her feet against my bare calves, opening herself up even more to me.

I wedge my right knee between her slender thighs and rest my own thigh tight against her sex. She closes her eyes and bites the bottom of her lip, groaning in the most delicious way. I love the noises she makes when we make love; she never holds back with me. I push up into her wet sex, pulling out more of those sighs and murmurs from her enticing mouth.

“Please,” she whispers, her breath hot against my ear. “Touch me, Faith. I need you so much,” she begs softly.

I reach between our bodies and slide my fingers through her shaved wetness. I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips when I feel just how wet she is for me tonight. I want her to saturate my skin. I want to drown her in arousal. I slip through her silken folds and she pushes up against me, her pelvic bone roughly bumping against my own enflamed core. I drop my head down and bite where her neck meets her collarbone to keep from crying aloud. I want to leave my mark all over her body and show the world that she belongs to me.

She’s whimpering and her hips are thrusting slightly to receive more friction against the movements of my hand. I can feel her arousal pooling on her inner thighs. I know she wants me to touch her clit, but I’m a selfish lover, and I want to feel more of her before I give in to her immediate needs.

“Inside,” she pants, telling me what she wants. Her hands are clawing desperately against my naked body. “Inside me.”

I bite my bottom lip and slowly slide my middle finger inside her wet core. Feeling her like this always makes me painfully aroused, like I’ve never experienced with any other lover. She’s swallowing me whole and I don’t mind at all.

I bury my finger deep inside her and cup her sex with the rest of my hand. From this position I can slowly thrust inside her and simultaneously rub her clit with my palm. Her wetness is clicking all around me, filling my ears with its rhythmic harmony.

She gasps sharply and grabs my ears unexpectedly, and pulls my face back down to capture my mouth in another desperate kiss. She thrusts her tongue inside my mouth. I know she’s close. I can feel her tightening and pulsing hot around my single digit.

She wraps her thin legs around my lower body, and pulls frantically on my forearm, encouraging me to thrust harder and deeper inside her. Her moans are replaced by groans as I quicken my pace. She’s breathing hard into my ear and telling me all the dirty things she wants to do to my body tonight. My body’s overheating; I can feel the sweat trickling down my back as I push my body to its limits. I close my eyes and concentrate on her voice; I focus on pushing her over the edge.

And when I succeed, she looks up at me beneath those luscious, thick eyelashes with a small, post-orgasmic smile curled on her satisfied mouth. I slowly roll off of her sweaty form and onto my back for a breather; but she’s quickly found her second wind, and I find myself covered in her body like a human blanket.

She stares down at me with those devastating hazel-green eyes. Her gaze is full of promises that I’m too scared to hope for.

Maybe this night won’t ever end.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

 **P** **OV Faith**

My back is pressed tight against the cold, stone wall in the short corridor. It might have something to do with the tight little blonde crushing into my front. She’s grabbed onto my wrists and pinned them against my sides, the rough rock biting into my skin. Fuck if I care though. As long as her talented mouth doesn’t stop what it’s doing right now.

I hear a voice down the hallway. It’s muffled, but definitely a voice. And I think it’s saying my name. The blood is pounding so loudly in my ears I can’t quite make it out though.

“Time to go inspire the troops, Fearless Leader,” she breathes heavily into my ear, toying with my libido like it’s a fuckin’ yo-yo. I groan at her wickedness and mutter something about payback under my breath, just loud enough so I know she hears.

I’ve assembled all the squad leaders for this meeting. The head girls from Toyko, Rome, Brazil, Cleveland, some others I haven’t had the chance to meet yet, and Kennedy from New York are seated around the table with the usual cast of characters. Willow even called on good old ghostly Wesley to represent the LA clan. Red, the Xandman, Giles, and Robin are seated close to the head of the table, which I guess is where I’m supposed to go. Fearless leader indeed.

There’s only one seat open for poor B. Right next to Soldier Boy. I flash her a sympathetic smile as she sits down next to the lovesick puppy dog. I want her at the head of the table with me. Fuck this Chosen One business. We’re the Chosen Two. Always have been, always will be. But I guess we can play musical chairs later.

I can tell everyone’s looking expectantly at me, so I reluctantly tear my eyes away from Buffy’s lips to address the group.

“So as you’ve all hopefully heard by now, I had a visit from our new friend Twilight. And just like he did with B last time, he didn’t want to fight – just wanted to talk. Which is a good thing, because he’s wicked strong from what I can tell.” I crack my knuckles cause I don’t know what else to do with my hands.

“He’s proposed a grand battle,” I continue to recant the story. “Our Champion versus his. I don’t know who his ‘Champion’ could be, but he’s got the U.S. military on his side plus who knows how many other baddies.”

A few of the slay girls cough nervously and glance in the direction of Riley.

The chump holds up his hands in protest. “Hey, I don’t know anything about a Champion; I’ve been incarcerated the past month.”

Giles looks down the table at the others. “There’s a good chance with the Initiative’s background in demonology and their recent alliance with that boy Warren, we could be facing another Adam-type hybrid.”

Now all eyes shift nervously to Red at the mention of the filet’ed nerd’s name. God this group sucks big time. We all have far too much baggage to be the “Good Guys.”

And then she speaks, breaking up the awkwardness that has blanketed the room: “I know no one’s gonna be thrilled about this idea, but…” Buffy pauses, weighing her words carefully. “I think we could use the help of what remains of the Los Angeles team. I know we’ve had our disagreements in the past, but it’s time we reconnect with them and make sure they’re still on our side.”

As she talks, I can see a little bit of that old flame starting to rekindle in her eyes. Yeah, my girl totally gets off on being a leader; and I don’t mind, oddly. B in charge is hot as fuck. _Hot for teacher._

“If Twilight is throwing around the word ‘Champion,’” she continues, gaining a little steam, “we should really get in touch with Angel and the Powers that Be.”

Wesley looks suddenly uneasy and stares down at his hands. “Buffy…” he clears his throat. “…about Angel…”

Blondie snaps her head around to look at the ghost-figure. “What’s the problem now?” she asks, impatiently. “Don’t tell me that he’s suddenly gone all evil? How come I’m always the last one to know?” she whines a little.

“No, uh…not evil,” Wes stammers. “He’s – he’s human.”

Buffy’s eyes go wide and I think I just swallowed my tongue. Mother fucker.

B’s silent for a few moments, as if her brain needs some time to catch up with Wesley’s revelation.

Finally, she speaks.

“Oh.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
TBC


	11. The Return of Angel

**POV Faith**

I couldn’t stick around the meeting any longer. So I ran. I’d been doing pretty good with the whole not splittin’ when things get a little hairy – fearless leader and all – but I just couldn’t stand there and watch her get all gooey cause Angel pulled a Pinocchio and is somehow a real boy.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m psyched for him. I don’t begrudge him that kinda thing, having to go around with the tortured soul crap. Hell, I’ve had enough of it and I’m not even thirty. And he’s been doing that gig longer than America’s been a country.

I owe Angel big time. Back in the day, he was the only one who cared; he was the only one who thought I could be saved, even when I didn’t think I was worth it. When no one came to visit me in prison, he was the one who kept me tethered to the outside world. But as much as I appreciate all he’s done for me in the past, that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna stand to the side and watch him steal my girl. That’s right, I said it. My Girl.

Yeah, they had the epic, tortured love story – a Californian version of Romeo and Juliet or some crap. But now that I’ve experienced Buffy Summers, I’m never letting go. The old Faith might’ve turned tail and run off, thinking she didn’t deserve Buffy – thinking that Buffy and Angel were meant to be. But that was the old Faith. Now I’m the Chosen One. And I choose her.

So now I’m in the training room, pounding out my sorrows on this poor Everlast bag. Beats the alternative – slamming a fifth of Jack and fucking the closest warm body. Lookit me all learnin’ and growin’. There were a few girls in here sparring and lifting weights when I showed up; but after they saw me lay into the punching bag, they quickly packed it in and left. Bein’ the boss has some perks.

I’m sure my leaving the meeting so quickly after Wes made his big announcement is sure to raise more than a few eyebrows. I didn’t even stay long enough to find out when Fangboy’s showing up in Scotland. Dang…now I’ve gotta come up with a new nickname for him. How inconsiderate.

I can hardly imagine what they must be thinking at this point. They all know what a big role Angel played in my redemption, so I bet more than a few of ‘em think I’m up in my room, sobbin’ for joy. But one thing I can guarantee – not one of them is thinking I left the meeting cause I’m in love with Buffy Summers.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

“You know, you do have a bathroom attached to your bedroom. Or are you just trying to convert even more of the newbies to see the Sapphic side of life?”

The blonde slayer hovered in the entranceway to the large shower room connected to the training facility. Faith showered alone with her back to the door, but Buffy knew she didn’t need to announce her entrance. They could always feel each other when one of them walked into a room, no matter how crowded, or in the case of the large industrial bathroom, how empty.

After Faith had run out of the room when the news about Angel’s recent mortality dropped, Buffy found herself swarmed by her old friends, Willow and Xander, both grinning ear to ear and babbling like they were back in high school. Despite his initial misgivings and jealousy toward the soul-ed vampire during their high school years, Xander wanted happiness for the blonde slayer even if it came in the shape of her former boyfriend. Willow pined for happy-endings and although Buffy had recently shown intimate interest in women, the redheaded witch falsely believed it had been merely a one-time curiosity.

But Buffy didn’t know how she should feel about Angel’s return. For so many years, she had believed it would make her happy. But she had found happiness recently in an unexpected place – in the soft embrace of the Boston slayer.

Faith’s stoical retort jolted the elder slayer back from her rambling thoughts: “What can I say? Old habits are hard to break,” the former convict deadpanned. “Guess I got used to all those group showers when I was in the pokey. Speaking of bad habits…” Faith turned around in the shower to face the blonde girl, unembarrassed by her lack of clothing. “When’s Angel getting here?”

Buffy frowned, but chose to ignore the other woman’s biting and accusatory comment. “Yeah, I noticed you didn’t stick around for that part of the meeting,” the blonde observed, crossing her arms across her chest.

The Boston woman shrugged at the smaller slayer’s words and arched her back, letting the spray run down her face to wash the shampoo from her dark tresses. She squirted an ample amount of body wash into her cupped hand, not bothering with the loofa hanging from the showerhead. She rubbed her hands together before soaping up her chest, spreading the soapsuds on her soft, fleshy globes.

Buffy felt her eyes train on the strong, feminine hands as they traveled from her breasts, down her torso, and just above the small landing strip above her sex. She felt her body moving of its own accord as she stepped into the shower room and closer to the brunette’s naked form. Her movements did not go unnoticed by the dark slayer, or the trajectory of her stare.

“B… you’re gonna get wet,” Faith warned as she watched the blonde girl stepping closer and closer toward her shower.

“I’m always wet when I’m around you, F,” Buffy breathed. She grabbed the hands that currently soaped up the naked form before her. Buffy brought the hands to her lips and placed light, gentle kisses on Faith’s raw knuckles. The dark woman had boxed without gloves again, tearing up the skin. “Why did you do that to yourself?” Buffy softly asked, the spray of the shower beginning to lightly mist against her blonde locks.

Faith stared down at the soft hand grasping her own rough touch. “Dunno, B,” she shrugged. “Guess I just wanted to feel a different kind of pain to dull the aching in my heart.”

Buffy looked up from the woman’s raw and angry knuckles to lock eyes with the Boston girl. The sincerity and honesty of the brunette’s answer shocked her. She tenderly cupped the other woman’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, allowing herself to be swallowed whole by the sorrow apparent in her lover’s eyes. She lightly brushed a dark, wet lock behind the brunette slayer’s right ear with her free hand. Ignoring the pelting hot water that continued to soak her clothes, Buffy stepped closer to the brunette’s naked form.

Faith bit her bottom lip, her jaw quivering with emotion. “Don’t, B,” she rasped. “I can’t let you hurt me again.” She tried to pull away from the blonde’s penetrating stare, but found the strength of her sister-Slayer too much to overcome.

Buffy continued her eye lock and swabbed her tongue across her bottom lip. She leaned forward, slowly narrowing the distance between her mouth and the dark slayer’s bee-stung lips. Tilting her head to the side, Buffy brushed her soft lips against the pliable skin of the Boston girl’s mouth.

Faith closed her chocolate-colored eyes and sighed against her lover’s embrace. As much as she wanted to keep her distance and remain stoical for fear of being abandoned as soon as the former vampire returned, she couldn’t deny the heat the small slayer produced in her body. The water poured down on the two women from above, causing Buffy’s clothes to cling to her svelte form. Faith ran her hands along the rough contours of the elder slayer’s body, reveling in the touch of damp denim and cotton pressed tightly against her nakedness.

“When’s Angel getting here?” Faith repeated, placing feather-light kisses along the blonde’s jaw line. The raven-haired beauty continued to kiss down Buffy’s neck, pausing only when she felt the scar tissue against her lips. It seemed as though no matter how much time had passed, Buffy would always have his mark. The Boston girl didn’t know which vampire it belonged to anymore – the Master, Angel, or Dracula. It didn’t really matter to her though. Only one scar mattered, because Buffy had gotten it when she gave Faith her stomach wound trying to save Angel’s life.

“Not-not for a few hours at least,” Buffy panted, her blood racing hot through her body from the other woman’s touch.

“Then I’d better get some before lover boy gets back. Who knows if I’ll ever get a piece of this again,” the younger slayer spit bitterly. Faith ran her tongue across her canines, feeling the subtle points against the tip of her tongue. She roughly bit down on the blonde woman’s exposed neck, hard enough so she knew it would leave an angry bruise. Buffy moaned loudly, the sound of her mixing pain and pleasure echoing off the large shower room walls.

The dark girl abruptly reached up and turned off the showerhead. She stood tall, the snake-like tendrils of her brunette hair dripping beads down her naked, olive-toned skin. Her eyes flashed with a new emotion – anger.

“You gotta make a decision, B,” she declared bitterly. “Whose mark do you want? Because you can’t have us both.”

Buffy’s hand went to her neck, the skin throbbing under her fingertips. Her hazel-eyes narrowed with an anger of her own. “What is it that you want, Faith? How many times do I have to ask that question?”

Faith scowled and grabbed her towel from the wall hook. “I don’t need this shit,” she growled. “Be with whomever you wanna be, cause I don’t care anymore.” The dark slayer began to stalk away, barely taking the time to wrap a towel around her lithe body in her hasty exit.

Faith felt the air rapidly escape her lungs as the blonde slammed her against the cold tiled wall. “Don’t you get it?” the elder slayer asked shrilly.

The Boston girl grunted. “Apparently not, but something tells me you’re gonna set me straight.” Faith grabbed at her right arm gingerly and winced. She thought it might be dislocated, but upon rotating it once, found it still in the socket.

Buffy grabbed the taller girl’s toned upper arms and sneered. “Is pain the only thing you understand? Do I have to beat it into you?”

Faith unexpectedly switched their positions, pinning Buffy against the bathroom tiling instead. She held the woman tightly by her wrists, her eyes filled with emotions.

“No, Buffy. You just have to love me.”

++++++++++++++++++

A solid knock on her bedroom door drew the robed blonde slayer out of her bathroom. She toweled at her damp hair as she walked toward the sound, humming a wordless tune. After leaving Faith at the training facility, she had returned to her room for a hot shower of her own. Buffy swung the door open and gasped when she saw the person standing on the other side.

“Angel,” she breathed. The small slayer dropped her towel on the ground and threw herself against the smiling man standing in her doorway, enveloping him in a Buffy-sized hug. She felt the warmth of his skin. She felt the beating of his heart within his chest.

Buffy looked up at Angel from beneath her thick eyelashes. “You’re really alive,” she murmured, the amazement obvious in her voice.

Angel smiled down at the small woman. He instinctively bent down and pressed his warm lips against Buffy’s mouth. The blonde jumped back from his touch. “Angel. I can’t.”

The former vampire furrowed his handsome brow. “What’s wrong? You’re not cookies yet?”

“Uh, no. I’m cookies. All baked and ready to be eaten…” The slayer grimaced at the unfortunate metaphor she had coined years ago. It seemed more like a lifetime ago, really. “Come…come in. We should talk,” she stated nervously, motioning for the man to enter her room.

The brooding man frowned and followed the blonde as he raked his fingers through his well-gelled hair. “Yeah, I heard Riley was back in the fold.”

“Oh, God. You think I’m with Riley?” Buffy couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up her throat. “No. Not Riley.”

Angel gave her a confused and hurt look. “Then who?” he questioned. “Robin Wood? Someone new?”

The small slayer shook her head and bit her lip. “It’s…not Robin...and not someone new either.”

Angel looked expectantly at his former lover, awaiting her explanation.

Buffy cast her eyes to the floor and reached up to touch the tender bruise on her neck. “I’m with Faith,” she finally admitted, not daring to look at the man who stood before.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

“I told him.”

Buffy had searched the castle to find the dark woman, feeling out with her slayer-senses to find her location. She found Faith standing outside on the castle balcony, smoking a cigarette.

“You want a parade or something, Blondie?” the brunette drawled, blowing another smoke ring in the air.

Buffy frowned and pushed back the tears she felt beginning to sting her eyes. “It’s a big step for me, okay?” She clenched her fists into balls, feeling her short manicured nails bite the palms of her hands.

Faith sighed deeply and flicked her dying cigarette off the balcony, watching as it fluttered to the ground. She raked her hand through her hair and turned finally to face the woman she loved.

“I’m sorry, B,” she apologized, holding her hands at her sides, palms facing up. “I don’t mean to act so cavalier; I know it’s a huge deal. I get that.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m just an idiot sometimes. I get so jealous and anxious and lacking in the self-esteem.” She crossed the distance between the blonde and herself and engulfed the woman in a tight embrace.

Buffy sighed and buried her face in the crook of Faith’s neck. “You’d think that little performance in the shower would have given you all the self-esteem you’d need,” she joked lightly. Faith tilted Buffy’s face up and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“What did he say when you told him?” Faith asked quietly. Buffy sighed again and nuzzled her nose into her lover’s skin.

“It was unbelievably awkward,” the blonde admitted. “At one point I thought he might need me to draw him a diagram.”

“Diagrams, eh?” Faith grinned slyly. “Complete with pie charts and everything? That’s getting me all kindsa hot, baby.”

Buffy stuck her tongue out at the brunette whose mood seemed to lift immediately upon hearing that she had told Angel. Even though the Californian still had not revealed their relationship to anyone else, telling Angel spoke mountains for their coupling.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Faith asked, holding Buffy close.

She felt the woman in her arms tense slightly. “No…I’m not ready yet,” the blonde answered honestly.

Faith nodded and kissed the top of the blonde’s head. “Who do you think our Champion should be?” she posed, changing the subject. Although Angel being back had certainly bothered her, she couldn’t help but worry about the impending battle with Twilight.

“Normally I would say Angel,” Buffy mumbled into the other woman’s neck, thankful that Faith hadn’t wanted to probe too deeply about her conversation with her former boyfriend. She breathed in the scent of the other woman. “The Powers always said he would be a Champion. But in his present human state, he couldn’t beat up Andrew.”

Faith couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her lips despite her somber mood. She leaned back and smiled down on her lover. “I wouldn’t say that too loudly around him. Might give him a new reason to start brooding.”

A mischievous smile curled onto Buffy’s lips. “Don’t tell Angel I said this either, but he and Andrew kind of have matching hair-cuts.”

Faith snorted through her nose. The two were quiet for a moment, the distant sound of crickets chirping filling the night sky.

“Maybe I should be the Champion,” Buffy whispered, her voice barely audible.

“No way, Princess,” Faith shook her head solidly. “I’m The Slayer. I’m the Chosen One. This should be my fight, not yours.”

“I’m not trying to steal your thunder or be the leader again. I promise,” Buffy insisted. “But if they do create a hybrid like the Initiative did with Adam, I have experience fighting with the combination of everyone’s essences. I’ve beat that kind of creature before.”

“Yeah, cause I was in prison,” Faith scowled bitterly, turning away from her lover.

Buffy frowned guiltily and wrapped her arms around the brunette’s waist. She rested her chin on Faith’s strong shoulder. “But if you hadn’t turned yourself in,” she wistfully began, “then you and I wouldn’t be…”

Faith walked out of Buffy’s embrace. She didn’t want to hear the blonde’s justification for her being in prison. She had done it for herself – for her redemption. Not for the chance to be Buffy’s lapdog.

“Don’t forget you’re also supposed to destroy the world, according to our crystal ball,” the Boston girl stated coolly, not facing her lover. “What if you lose, Buffy? Seems like that could put a damper on at least Christmas this year.”

Buffy looked away, distracted by something in the sky. Her eyes narrowed as she stared above. “Is it just me,” she started, “or are the stars…are they…are they moving?”

“Huh,” Faith mused, tilting her head to look into the dark sky. “Just when you think you’ve seen it all.”

The stars clustered around each other, their message abrupt like a telegram: “Talk to your witch. It’s time we settle this.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++

“So go over this again, Red,” Faith stated calmly, trying to wrap her head around the details of the meet-up. “Where exactly is this little powwow taking place?”

“It’s a neutral room,” Willow repeated. “No magics can be used inside it without the field exploding. It’s like that house we visited before, Buffy.”

The blonde nodded, a strange smile on her beautiful face. “Oh right. I remember that one – we used magic in and then it got all explode-y.”

The witch smiled fleetingly and nodded. “Exactly.”

++++++++++++++++++++

“Ah, the Good Guys. Right on time. I do love punctuality.”

After stepping through the blue-greenish portal, the group found themselves in a room that looked straight out of Medieval Times. A number of animal heads adorned the wooden-paneled walls and a large fire crackled in the stone fireplace at the opposite end of the room. A long, distressed wooden table was placed in the center of the ornate room, an odd fruit basket in its center. Xander reached for a pear, only to be swatted at by Willow who gave him a warning glare.

Twilight stood on one side of the room flanked by Amy, Warren, and three uniformed military personnel.

“Where’s your seventh?” Giles demanded of the masked man as he noted the other side’s lack of numbers. Faith and Twilight had agreed that each side would bring seven individuals to the meeting to assure balance. The former rogue slayer had entrusted Buffy, Giles, Robin, Xander, Willow, and Angel to accompany her into this mystical safe room.

Twilight waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that vampire’s always late for these things. If he didn’t have such an active role to play in things to come, I’d stake him myself.” He paused, his body language thoughtful. “He’s an old friend of some of you, if I’m not mistaken.”

The Chosen Two glanced at each other nervously, each wondering which vampire Twilight spoke of. Surely Dracula wouldn’t double-cross them after all that he and Xander had been through together, and Spike was still too lovesick over Buffy to ever be a threat.

“Looks like the party started without me,” came a voice from the entranceway. Lilah Morgan walked into the room confidently, with an embarrassed-looking Wesley following behind.

Faith narrowed her eyes at the Wolfram and Hart employee as she set a briefcase on the wooden table. “What is this? You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Mmm,” Lilah hummed and nodded. “I get that a lot. I can see why you’re always so edgy, Buffy. Having to explain yourself must get old after awhile.”

“What’s going on?” Giles interjected, motioning towards Lilah and Wesley. “We agreed to only seven a side.”

“I have contracts to make sure that your battle is legally, as well as magically, binding,” Lilah informed, going into lawyer-mode. “You win, and you defeat evil. You end magic. And Twilight and all of those with whom he’s associated stop their quest to destroy the Slayer line and destroy the world as you know it.”

“And if you win?” Faith glared, clenching and unclenching her jaw.

Twilight finished for his undead lawyer. “Then the scythe is surrendered to me and I destroy the Slayer line. And you’ll be dead.”

Faith didn’t flinch. But Buffy did.

“Have you chosen a Champion, Slayer?” the masked villain demanded.

“Yes,” Faith nodded and straightened her shoulders. “Me.”

A few grumblings came from those assembled. Twilight looked a little disappointed and glanced at Buffy to gauge her reaction, but the blonde only stood coldly, her arms folded across her chest.

“And your side’s Champion?” the dark brunette challenged, her voice strong and unwavering. “I assume you’ll be fighting?”

“Me? Oh, no,” Twilight said casually. “I’m just here to set-up the chess board. I was never meant to play.”

“So then who’s your Champion?” Buffy repeated. “It’s only fair we know beforehand, since you know that Faith is ours.”

“You brought our Champion with you.”

For a moment, Faith froze and looked at her sister-Slayer whose eyes had also grown large in shock. They certainly couldn’t mean her could they?

“Oh, don’t look so alarmed, Slayers,” Twilight laughed. “Although a fight between the Good and Dark Slayer would be highly entertaining, I certainly couldn’t ask Buffy Summers to be the Champion for Evil.”

Willow suddenly spoke up from the wings of the room. “I don’t care if magic is destroyed. I won’t fight on your side.”

Twilight chuckled, his dark eyes gleaming behind his mask. “That is another charming scenario, Miss Rosenberg. But again, despite your brief foray to the Dark Side, there’s still too much Good in you. Oh, no. Our Champion is the most twisted, inhumane creature this world has ever seen.”

“Martha Stewart?” Xander offered unhelpfully.

“ _He_ is our Champion.” Twilight pointed at a very shocked-looking Angel. “Or should I say… _Angelus_ is.”

The former vampire looked aghast. “No! I’m human now. You can’t—.”

Lilah looked as though she had swallowed something bitter. “You can’t seriously be surprised, Angel,” she interrupted. “Why do you think we kept you alive…or undead all those years? Did you really think you had successfully evaded Wolfram and Hart for such a long time?”

“But the prophesies –,” he started to protest.

“The prophecies said you’d be a Champion, yes,” Lilah continued, a smug smile on her face. “ _Our_ Champion.”

+++++++++++++++++++

TBC


	12. The Return of Angelus

“Guess that’s my cue,” came a deep voice from a dark corner of the room.

“Aha!” cried Twilight, the mirth bubbling in his voice. He clapped his hands together. “I give you, my seventh.”

The dark figure stepped fully into the light of the strange room, the fire in the fireplace casting eerie shadows and light against his chiseled features.

Wesley gasped from his position next to Lilah. “Good lord…Gunn.”

Gunn flashed a cocky smile at the group and then growled. His face morphed, the ridges along his nose and forehead transformed his handsome face into that of a monster’s. He ran the tip of his tongue along his elongated canines.

Lilah smirked evilly at Angel’s dumbfounded reaction. This was going to be even more pleasant than she had originally thought.

“The Partners decided it would be far more troublesome to attempt to rip your soul from your demon body again,” the lawyer began coolly. “You seem to pathetically cling to it no matter what kind of temptation we throw your way. So we made you human again, Angel,” the dead woman explained. “Now, all Gunn needs to do is turn you, and Angelus can once again be free.”

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” the former vigilante rumbled as he stalked closer to Angel.

Buffy felt her best friend twitch next to her. The blonde grabbed the witch’s wrist. “No, Wills,” she whispered harshly. “We can’t risk a spell. There’s no one to mentally contain the room if it implodes like last time. We could all die.”

Willow stared helplessly at the eldest slayer, but finally nodded her consent.

Gunn licked his lips as he walked closer to the trench-coated man. He cracked his knuckles and then his neck. “Where’s the welcome wagon, Angel? I’m gonna set you free,” he purred darkly. “Gonna free you from that weak human body, and turn you back into the monster you were meant to be.”

Acting quickly, Faith moved across the room, positioning herself between the advancing vampire and Angel. “Sorry, G,” she grunted, her body poised in a combat position. “But if you want Angel, you’re gonna have to go through me first.”

Gunn paused his advance and glanced at Twilight questioningly as if seeking permission to strike out at the Slayer. The masked villain shook his head at the recently turned vampire. His body language looked unimpressed and unworried by Faith’s protection over the former soul-ed vampire.

Gunn narrowed his eyes at the Boston girl. “You need to move, Slayer.” The final word escaped his lips, dripping with hate. “You can’t stop this from happening.”

“Never gonna happen, G,” Faith snarled in return. She clenched her hands into tight fists, ready to lash out against the advancing vampire.

The young woman suddenly stumbled to the ground when she felt the blunt object crack against the back of her head.

“Sorry, Faith. But I can fight my own battles.” Angel glowered over the fallen girl, a heavy candlestick-holder clenched tightly in his hand.

Faith winced up at the man who had once been her savior and gingerly touched the back of her head. She could feel the familiar wetness of her own blood against her hand. A wave of nausea washed over her body as she tried to remain consciousness.

“Faith!” Buffy gasped in alarm, scrambling over to the woman. She tenderly cradled the other slayer’s head in her lap. “It’s okay,” she murmured to her lover. “Just try to keep your eyes open and stay awake.”

Angel’s dark eyes clouded over. “It is true,” he mumbled, momentarily distracted by Buffy’s concern for the dark slayer.

When the shock of being human again had warn off, somewhere inside his now-beating heart, Angel had harbored hope that he and Buffy could now be reunited. He had falsely believed that the Powers that Be were responsible for his mortality – finally granting him that happy-ending he felt he had earned after decades of atonement. He never expected to find that Buffy had moved on and found happiness in the arms of someone else, let alone happiness in embrace of her former nemesis, Faith. Without Buffy, and now without a sacred duty, what else did the man have to live for?

“I knew you’d make this easy for me, old buddy.” Gunn grabbed his former friend by the shoulders and quickly pulled the man’s broad body towards his own. The dark vampire sank his fangs deep into Angel’s throat, taking advantage of his distracted state. Angel moaned in pain as Gunn bathed his tongue in the former vampire’s human blood.

The room erupted into a collective gasp, but no one could do anything to stop the vengeful vampire from draining his former friend and employer.

“Feel that, Angel?” Gunn snarled before sinking his jaws deeper. “That’s your heartbeat. And it’s gonna stop soon.”

Satisfied he had taken just enough, the vampire released his hold on Angel’s neck. Gunn licked at the blood that had spilled out onto his chin, a cruel smile spread across his mouth.

Angel’s hand went immediately to his neck wound, a strangled gurgle sputtering from his lips. Blood flowed freely from the two angry bite marks. Gunn raked his fingernails across his own wrist, slicing the skin open. “You know what you have to do,” he tempted the dying man. He offered his tainted blood to the former vampire.

“Angel, no!” Buffy cried, her emotions torn between the half-conscious woman laying in her arms and her ex-lover who stood dying.

Angel briefly looked back and forth between the blonde and the brunette slayer, both still on the ground. Even in this dim lighting and without his heightened senses he could see the concern in Buffy’s touch as she absent-mindedly stroked her fingers through the brunette’s long waves.

“I told you before, Buffy,” he weakly muttered, feeling the life slipping from his human body. “It’s not the monster that needs killing – it’s the man.” Angel desperately grabbed Gunn’s bloody wrist in both hands and drank hungrily from it.

“Stop, Angel! Noooo…” Buffy moaned, burying her face into the brunette woman’s hair. She abandoned her body to the sobs that racked her small frame.

A rumble of dark laughter erupted from Twilight. “Our Champion has returned.”

The redheaded witch’s eyes glossed black and her voice echoed ominously over them all. “This meeting is over.” With a large cracking ripple through the air, the room disintegrated and the small group found themselves back in the Scotland castle.

Seven had left and seven returned; only this time, the seventh was Wesley. Angel was gone.

+++++++++++++++++

“Is everyone alright?” Willow asked, glancing anxiously around the room. Although she knew that performing magic could threaten their safety in the mystical room, she had quickly teleported them all back to Scotland rather than having to witness the end of Angel’s transformation.

Xander grabbed at himself, making sure that all his body parts were still in the right locations. He gave the redhead a sheepish grin when he caught her amused stare.

Giles’s eyes narrowed at the Wicca. “Willow,” the English man scolded. “I don’t have to tell you how reckless that was of you. Any kind of magic in that room...”

“Giles,” the redhead nearly growled the name. “Now’s not the time for a lecture.”

Buffy remained on her knees, still cradling the dark slayer’s head in her hands. Faith’s eyes were closed and her mouth was clenched in a tight grimace. The blonde’s hazel-green eyes looked worn and red around the edges, evidence of her anguish over the most recent twist of Fate. Her eyes were focused on her injured sister-Slayer, having seemingly forgotten that her friends surrounded her. Her lips were pressed together tightly, forming a thin line across her face.

Faith slowly opened her eyes and looked up at the tired face of the elder slayer. Her hand went to the woman’s face, her fingertips brushing lightly against her cheekbones to wipe away the stray tears there. “Buffy,” she murmured, low enough for only the blonde to hear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him.”

Robin crouched down low near the two women. “How is she?” he rumbled, his dark eyes flashing with concern. Buffy looked up and gave the man a grateful smile.

“I’m fine, everyone,” the Boston girl announced from her position on the floor. “Just a wicked nasty bump.”

“It’s a good thing you have such a thick skull,” the Marine shot from his corner.

Buffy glared across the room at her ex-boyfriend. Riley scowled and crossed his arms, before wordlessly leaving the room.

Willow and Xander briefly glanced at each other, unsure of how to react regarding the interaction between the two slayers. The friends were accustomed to the two women fighting…not touching each other with such care and concern.

“Well at least you won’t have to fight against Twilight.” Xander’s hopeful voice broke the awkward tension that had fallen over the group.

Faith tore her eyes from Buffy’s angelic face and gave the one-eyed man a doubtful look. She gingerly stood up with help from the small blonde. The elder slayer lightly held her with an arm around her waist. Xander tried to ignore the way the blonde slayer’s touch seemed to linger just a little too long in the small of the younger woman’s back.

“What?” the man shrugged. “Twilight totally kicked Buffy’s ass last time and you didn’t fare much better,” he pointed out. “At least it’s just Angelus now. And you and Buffy have both defeated him before. No big deal, right?”

The remainder of the group was quiet, not wholly sharing the former carpenter’s optimism.

“Faith,” Willow started, hesitantly testing the waters. She walked closer to their new leader. “Xander’s right,” she murmured. “You’ve defeated Angelus before when you helped him regain his soul. You can do it again.”

Faith looked uneasily at the gathered group, subtly releasing herself from the elder slayer’s light hold. “Thanks for the vote of confidence guys…really…I appreciate it.” The Boston girl looked troubled. “But I only defeated him last time because Wesley drugged my blood.” She hung her head low, not daring to look at Buffy.

“Good lord. You mean…Angel…” Giles trailed off, his eyes wide from the shock of realization.

Faith flashed her dark eyes towards the Watcher. “Angelus fed from me, yes,” she confirmed. She lightly touched her fingertips against her neck as if remembering his animalistic hold on her. “He had me beat,” she explained. “It was a last ditch effort to save him in case I couldn’t win.”

Willow touched the Boston girl lightly on the arm. “We’ll think of something, Faith,” she assured. “It’s what we do.”

As if suddenly remembering, the redhead flashed the blonde slayer a sympathetic smile as well. “We’ll figure something out, Buffy. We’ll find a way to get his soul back.”

The California woman swallowed and blinked hard, wiping at a few stray tears with the back of her hand. She looked at her brunette lover fleetingly, her glance flickering to the flawless neck she had so recently lavished with her own attentions. A knot formed deep in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Angelus feeding from the young woman.

“I’m sorry you guys. I can’t handle all of this right now,” she rasped thickly, her eyes filled with pain. Buffy spun on her heels and quickly left the grand hall, bounding up the great staircase two steps at a time.

Giles removed his glasses and sighed, watching the blonde’s abrupt retreat. “I suggest we all retire for the evening,” he gently coaxed. “It’s been a long day for us all. Tomorrow,” he proposed, “we’ll formulate a plan.”

++++++++++++++++++++++

POV Faith

I know I should have told her about Angelus feeding from me, but it seemed like there had never been the right time. But then again, how are you supposed to tell the woman you love that her former honey made you his afternoon snack? Right after restoring Angel’s soul, Red and I had traveled back to SunnyD to help defeat the First. I wasn’t exactly back on good footing with B even then, and let’s not forget the whole, everyone picking me as the leader and kicking Buffy out of the house debacle.

I can’t say she’s been avoiding me, since I’m the one whose been doing most of the hiding ever since it happened. I mean, how many times can we powwow about the fact that Angelus is back? Red is convinced she can restore his soul, but the rest of them think I have a much better chance at defeating Angelus than Twilight. I just don’t want to talk or think about it anymore. They’re all looking to me…cause, well…I’m the leader. Everyone keeps giving me pep talks and hopeful glances even though that’s supposed to be my job. I just don’t have the answers or the right words to say though. I was never one for the grand speeches; that was always B’s deal.

There’s a soft knock on my door and I leap from my bed. Even though I’ve been ignoring the Scoobies all day, I swing the door to my bedroom open because I know it’s not any of them this time.

“Hey,” I say, opening the door slightly.

“Hi,” she returns, just as nervous and awkward as I feel. Her eyes are shimmering like she’s been crying for a while. When I look into those hazel-green pools it’s like someone kicked me in the gut. Who have those tears been for?

“How’s your head?” Her voice is small and she won’t look up at me now. She just keeps staring at the floor like it’s the most interesting thing that she’s ever seen.

I shrug nonchalantly even though it still kills. I don’t know what hurts more though – the open wound on the back of my head or the sting of knowing that it was Angel who did it to me. I never expected him to turn on me like that, but then again I have been bumpin’ uglies with the love of his life.

“You know me, B,” I breeze, touching the back of my head gingerly. I move to the side and motion for her to come into the room. “I’m five by five,” I insist, closing the door when she enters.

“I haven’t heard that one in a while,” she observes, sitting down on my bed. She pulls her knees up to her chin and rests her head on her knees.

I can’t help the frown that’s flopped on my face. “Haven’t needed to use it in a while,” I admit.

“Why didn’t you tell me…” she trails off, unable to finish the sentence. I know what she means. The words are unnecessary.

“Ask dumb questions, and you’ll only get dumb answers, B,” I lightly warn her.

She pats the comforter, inviting me to sit next to her. I close my eyes and sigh deeply, but finally give in. I plop down unceremoniously and she grabs onto one of my hands, immediately tracing the pads of her fingers along my skin.

“Are you going to fight him?” she asks, staring at my hand grasped lightly in hers. I use my free hand to run my fingers through my hair.

“Is there another option?” I snap, my voice angrier than I intended. It has to be me. No way would I ever let her face off against Angelus. She had to kill him once before, and I can’t handle the thought of her to have to do it again.

“Willow thinks she can restore his soul,” she counters softly, looking at me out of the corner of her eyes to gauge my reaction.

Not gonna lie. Red’s idea is certainly attractive. If Angel gets his soul back it totally throws a wrench in the Bad Guy’s so-called prophesy. But I don’t know if I’m just being stubborn or selfish by pushing it aside as an option. I kinda want another crack at the monster since he bested me in Los Angeles. Plus, if I dust Angelus, there’s no more Angel. And no more competition for Buffy’s heart.

“Tell me the truth, Buffy.” I can feel my eyes narrowing and growing dark as I stare at her tired face. The last few days have certainly taken a toll on both of us. First with Angel being back and human…and now…this.

“Why don’t you want me to fight him?” I demand harshly. “Do you think I can’t beat him? Or is it because you want Angel back?”

I can see the muscles in her jaw tighten as she clenches and unclenches her jaw. But she doesn’t mutter a word. Not a single syllable. The silence is killing me and pushing all of my insecurities to the surface.

“Fine,” I snap. “We’ll talk when you figure it out.” The voice that leaves my mouth sounds so foreign, like a stranger has taken control of my vocal chords. The words drip with the stain of betrayal.

“Faith!” she blurts out, reaching for my angry form before I can make a grand exit. She’s got me by the shoulders and her grip tells me I’m not going anywhere without her consent.

“Don’t leave,” she pleads desperately, clinging to my shoulders. “Stay,” she insists, her voice soft and small. Her eyes are big and watery like if she blinks, a fortress of pain will cascade down her face. I don’t need to point out that she’s in my room, so technically she’s the one staying.

“I-I don’t know why I don’t want you to fight him,” she admits slowly. She’s weighing her words carefully because I’m about as stable as a grenade without its pin. “I’m worried for your safety. I don’t want you hurt. And I do want Angel back. But…but not because of the reason you’re worried about.”

I nod once and cup her face gently in my hands, drawing her near. It’s enough. For now.

I pull on her bottom lip gently with my teeth, sucking the flesh into my mouth. I nibble on the skin, my body flushing hot when I see her eyes clamp shut, and I feel the delicious vibrations when she moans into my open mouth. I tear off her small tank top, exposing the slightly bronzed skin. My hands instantly go to her pert breasts, rolling the hardened nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.

I touch her body, my fingertips gliding over the thin material of her sweatpants that separates her bare skin from my touch. I know what I want, but when I look into those hazel-green eyes, I only see conflict and confusion on her part.

Wordlessly, she lifts her hips and wiggles out of her sweatpants and her cotton panties come off as well. I swallow hard, my eyes instantly gravitating to her shaved sex. Honestly, I can’t say I’ve seen that many women naked, even though I’ve been playing for both teams for a number of years now. But it’s no lie when I tell ya that Buffy Summers has the perfect pussy.

I lean in and kiss along her jaw line and down her neck. I pause momentarily to suck in a deep breath, checking my emotions, before I suck on her nipples. As I lazily flick the sensitive buds back and forth with my tongue, I can feel her body wiggling impatiently underneath my form. She gets like this sometimes; too horny, too rushed to handle any foreplay. She just needs to get off. I recognize it cause I used to be that way too – get some, get gone.

I unlatch my mouth from her nipples and look up, frowning. “Yeah, B?” I ask, unable to disguise the edge that my voice has suddenly taken on.

She bites that luscious bottom lip of hers and her eyelashes flutter wildly. “I just need….” She trails off.

The blush that’s crept onto her face is irresistible. If it were any other day, I’d make her beg for it. Make her say the words and drag it out just a little longer. I love making her drip with need. Making her want me so badly she drops that innocent act of hers so she’s practically screaming all the nasty things she wants me to do to her tight little body. But today’s not like any other day.

I grunt a little and nod my defeat. I give in to her too easily. I know it’s because I’m afraid that if I resist and show any kind of backbone, she’ll move on to the next warm…or cold body.

I position myself between her thighs, sitting up on my knees. I shift my legs, opening her just a little bit more for me. I stare down at her shaved sex for just a few moments and feel my breath quicken in my throat. It feels like a lifetime of pure adoration. I run the tips of my fingers from her neck, between her heaving tits, down the flat stomach that twitches and dances at the contact, and keep moving south until my fingertips slip down her clit and her hot sex. Her breath hitches when I reach my final destination. I flip my hand over, so my palm is facing upwards and without another word I shove two fingers inside her wet gash. She grunts at the sudden intrusion and those eyes clamp shut again.

“Look at me, Buffy,” I command, hovering over her. There’s no way I’m gonna do this if she’s thinking about someone else. I need to know I’m the only one she’s thinking about when I make her cum on my hand.

Her eyes are still closed so I thrust into her hard just once. “Fucking, open them Buffy,” I growl again. I punctuate each word with an upward thrust into her clenching core.

She re-positions her legs, throwing them over my shoulders, and fuck if I don’t cum in my pants right there. Her eyes fly open, the hazel-green silently challenging me to push her over the edge.

So I fuck her. It’s not what I need, but from the way she’s clawing at my back I know it’s enough.

For now.

++++++++++++++++++++++

The dark slayer awoke before the small blonde. After staring at her slumbering lover for a few moments, she stealthily crept out of bed so as not to disturb the naked blonde. Although Buffy had asked her to stay the night, Faith wanted to avoid any morning-after awkwardness. Once the elder slayer had climaxed, the two had gone to sleep without much conversation.

Throwing on a small t-shirt and sweat pants, the Boston-born woman glanced once more at the sleeping slayer. Buffy slept on her stomach, unaware of the other woman’s absence, her arms and legs sprawled over the expanse of Faith’s double bed. Her blonde hair fanned out above her head. The cotton sheets were wrapped tightly around her lower form, leaving the toned, bronzed shoulder blades exposed to the early morning air. The younger slayer smiled wistfully in the direction of the other woman before silently opening her bedroom door

Robin Wood stood in the hallway outside of the bedroom, a serious look on his face and a modest, khaki-colored duffle bag in one hand. His free hand was raised in a loose fist as if the brunette had just caught him about to knock on her door.

“Principal Wood,” the former rogue slayer announced, a bit surprised to see the man standing there. Although Robin had been living in the castle ever since Buffy had initially been sent to Cleveland to baby-sit the Hellmouth, the two former bedmates had not interacted beyond passing greetings in hallways and kitchens. She looked over her shoulder back at the naked blonde sleeping soundly in her bed. Faith quietly stepped fully into the hallway and closed the door so Robin couldn’t see into her room.

Faith wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her thighs. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” she questioned, her voice an octave too high. The Boston girl winced at the sound of her voice.

“No time for pleasantries, Faith,” Robin stated somberly, seemingly unsuspicious of the dangerous slayer’s unease. He shifted the bag from one hand to the other and looked around the vacant hallway. “I’m going to get right to the point. How much do you want to win?” he asked, his voice hushed. “How much are you willing to sacrifice to save the world?”

The brunette narrowed her eyes and looked hard at the man standing before her and then glanced back down at the duffle bag in his hand.

Faith wet her thick lips. “Let’s walk.”

++++++++++++++++++++

TBC


	13. Hiding in the Shadows

Robin and Faith sat down on the slightly damp grass outside of the castle walls.

“What is it?” the dark slayer asked, nodding in the direction of the non-descript duffle bag. “You plannin’ on taking a trip or something?” She paused and her eyes narrowed. “Or is it me? Am I going?” She silently fumed as she glared at the man seated beside her. “Mother fucker better not tell me that my leaving is gonna save the world.”

Robin looked at the bag. “It’s a Slayer Emergency Kit,” he explained. “It was my mother’s. I know I should have passed it on after she…” he hesitated, struggling with the words. “But it’s all I had left of her, so I childishly clung onto it even when it didn’t belong to me anymore.”

“That’s right,” the Boston girl nodded, calming down a bit. “Your mom was a Slayer. So I guess this is an emergency, huh?” the rogue woman joked.

Robin didn’t smile. “The end of the world?” he stated smoothly. “Yeah, I’d say that might be the definition of ‘Emergency.’”

The former principal slowly unzipped the khaki-colored bag, and after a few moments of sifting through its contents, pulled out a metal box.

“Ancient Slayer jewelry box?” Faith half-heartedly guessed.

The man beside her continued to ignore her attempts to lighten the situation. “Before you came back from…Los Angeles,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “Buffy used this box to try to find a way to defeat the First.”

The brunette hefted the unimpressive container in her hands with a newly found respect.

“And what happened?” Faith asked, staring intently at the box.

Robin looked at the metal cube in the beautiful woman’s capable hands.

“You can’t just watch, Faith,” he rumbled darkly. “You have to see.”

+++++++++++++

“I honestly thought it was just a one-time deal with you,” came the snarky feminine voice.

Buffy didn’t look up from her triceps extension. She stretched her toned arm muscles and watched the lean muscle ripple with her exaggerated movements. As a slayer she really didn’t need to do any muscle training, but she always found that lifting weights helped her focus and clear her mind. And her mind had been racing the past few days.

“Thought the whole Satsu thing was just a fluke,” the young slayer quipped as she stalked closer to the blonde woman. “Had you figured as a phobe, actually.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kennedy.” Buffy’s words were flat and unemotional as she continued in her careful and labored movements.

“Oh, don’t blow smoke up my ass, Buffy Summers,” Kennedy griped. “Wills told me all about what went down in that mystical safe house. You and Faith gettin’ all touchy-feely and shit afterwards.”

Buffy dropped the small weight to the floor mat with a soft thud. “She got injured,” she stated simply, turning to face the approaching woman. “I was making sure she was okay.”

“So that’s what the kids are callin’ it nowadays,” the bratty slayer quipped. “Back in my day they called it muff-diving.” The dark-haired girl snickered. “If you’re not done experimenting the local cuisine, stay away from my Willow, ok?”

The blonde slayer winced at the crude words and wrinkled her nose. “Remind me again why Willow keeps you around?”

The younger slayer grinned slyly, shoving her hands into her back jean pockets. “What can I say? I gotta talented tongue.” She clicked her tongue stud against the back of her bottom teeth.

“I think I just threw up a little in my mouth,” Buffy groaned. She turned her back on the openly lesbian slayer and moved toward the leg press.

“So I’m waiting for an explanation,” the other slayer persisted.

Buffy’s words came out cold and dismissive. “There’s nothing to explain, Kennedy.” The eldest slayer clenched her jaw in anger. “And even if there was, I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

“Well, you might wanna do some explaining to someone, Buffy. Maybe Faith.” The young slayer grew more animated as she continued her rant. “I might not be an expert at relationships, but a hot piece like that isn’t gonna settle for secret dates and back alley fucks.” The girl paused before continuing. “She loves you, Buffy,” Kennedy stated, her voice taking on a serious edge. “Anyone with eyes can see that…when she looks at you. And she deserves to be with someone who can love her back. Someone who’ll openly love her and not be ashamed.”

“I’m not!” Buffy started, her voice shrill.

The brunette slayer’s eyes went wide, surprised that the elder slayer was actually having this conversation with her.

Buffy grimaced, gritting her teeth together. “I’m not ashamed,” she muttered, her voice calmer now. “You said Willow told you…about Faith and me. Does that mean she knows, too?”

“No. She just said you guys shared this weird moment.”

Buffy furrowed her eyebrows and bit her lower lip in confusion. “So how did you figure it out?”

The brunette slayer laughed easily. “What can I say? I’m intuitive.” She shrugged. “Plus I just guessed. I didn’t really think I was right, just wanted to come down here and bust your chops.” She grinned widely. “So do I, like, get a cookie or something for guessing your dark, dirty secret?”

“Kennedy, you need to leave. Like, back to New York or something,” the blonde fumed dismissively.

“What’s the big deal?” the other slayer persisted. “I mean, everyone’s cool with Willow and me gettin’ it on, and there was only minor wiggins’ over the whole Satsu thing; so why not you and Faith?”

“It’s not the gay thing,” Buffy insisted, shaking her head. “It’s the Faith thing.”

Kennedy narrowed her eyes in confusion and shook her head as well. “I don’t follow. What’s so wrong with Faith?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Kennedy,” Buffy growled. “You weren’t here. She was my mortal enemy.”

Kennedy snorted. “Dramatic much, Blondie?”

Buffy clenched her teeth. “You weren’t here,” she repeated bitterly. “Ask Willow how much she hates Faith, and then maybe we’ll talk.”

+++++++++++++++++

Robin set the ancient book down on the ground in front of Dawn. Since the young woman had helped with the spell the first time the group had attempted it, back when they battled against the First, the former principal had proposed that she help them again. Luckily, the moat where the mermaid most recently inhabited also traveled underneath the castle, spilling into the dungeon area. Robin had suggested the space not only for its water access, but because he knew they would avoid interruption there as well.

The brunette slayer positioned herself to look at the book’s contents, but sighed when she saw the ancient language.

“Dawnie?” the Boston woman questioned. “Not that I’m doubting the awesomeness that is you, but are you sure can read this?”

“It’s ancient Sumerian,” Dawn noted. “But don’t worry. It’ll turn into English once I start reading.”

“Books are weird,” Faith muttered under her breath, raking her fingers through her long hair nervously.

Robin’s deep voice rumbled. “You can never tell Buffy about this, Dawn.”

“Why not?” the mermaid questioned with all the teenaged authority she could muster.

“Because Faith might have to make sacrifices your sister wasn’t prepared to do herself,” Robin vaguely responded.

Dawn sighed and finally consented with a curt nod of her head. “Fine. More secrets.” She glanced fleetingly at the leather-clad slayer.

“Oh!” the fish girl blurted, suddenly remembering. “Someone needs to be ready to kill whatever demon pops out of the portal.”

“Demon?” Faith looked confused.

Dawn sighed again. “When Buffy did this last time, a humungous demon popped out of the portal. In order for you to gain access to wherever you’re going, there has to be an exchange.”

“There’s always a catch, isn’t there,” the dark slayer grumbled.

“And someone needs to put the pieces together in the right order.” Dawn nodded toward the metal box. “I’d help, but in my watery home here, I might rust the damn shadow puppets. Principal Wood, you’ll have to do that.”

Robin took his position near the table where the metal box and its shadow puppets lay.

Dawn looked down at the open book in front of her and then glanced up at Faith and Robin. “Are you guys ready for this?”

The slayer and the former principal both nodded solemnly.

“Alright. Here we go.” Dawn cleared her voice and looked down at the ancient words. “First,” she started slowly, “there was the Earth.”

Robin placed the first metal shadow puppet into the appropriate spot. An ominous beating of tribal drums instantly began.

Faith narrowed her eyes as she looked at the shadows cast on the wall. “Cool trick,” she muttered under her breath. Her stomach twisted with dread. Was she really going through with this without talking to Giles first? Without letting Buffy know? Weren’t good leaders supposed to consult others? “Sweet Jesus, what am I doing?” she silently panicked.

“Then there came the demons.” Dawn’s voice was strong and sure as it echoed against the stone walls in the castle dungeon. A growling reverberated throughout the basement when Robin placed the next piece into the shadow wheel.

“After the demons,” Dawn continued, slowly reading the text before her, “there came men. Men found a girl. And the men took the girl to fight the demon. All Demons.”

She paused before the final line. The first time she had read it she was only a child, not realizing what the implications of the Slayer Origin story were. She might not have been that much older now, but she has seen and witnessed enough tragedy to mature her beyond her years.

The next words came out as a whisper. “They chained her to the Earth,” the teenaged mermaid murmured. “And then…darkness.”

The shadow device spun around rapidly on the table, casting looming shadows of its ominous figures on the solemn castle walls. The shadows moved violently, acting out the story. The beating of drums, the growling of monsters, and the chanting of men were silenced when the scream of an innocent girl pierced through the stale dungeon air.

A bright blue light formed at the center of the device. It grew in size until it formed a window of light on a nearby castle wall. Faith walked hesitantly closer to investigate it.

“I have to go in there, right?” she stated somberly.

Robin stepped away from the spinning shadow box and crossed his arms across his broad chest. “Depends. Do you want to save the world?”

The dark slayer set her jaw hard and glanced from the portal over to the fish girl. “Make sure you bring me back, Dawnie,” she stated. “And if this all goes to hell…tell Buffy…” she closed her eyes tightly. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

Without another word, the Boston girl jumped into the blue swirling light, and the portal disappeared behind her. Where Faith once stood was now a snarling demon.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Faith tumbled through the portal and suddenly found herself on her hands and knees. Gritty sand bit into the flesh of her palms. She looked up, but the brightness was blinding. It looked like she was in some kind of desert, but the lighting was all wrong. It was if some kid had been playing with the contrast and brightness knobs on his parent’s television.

A group of three dark-skinned men dressed in tribal garb stood in front of her, each holding a tall wooden staff in one hand.

The shadow men grunted in a strange language Faith knew she shouldn’t be able to recognize, but somehow she was able to understand their words. It was as if their real language was in the background, like all the adults in Charlie Brown cartoons, but English was looped over the top.

“You’re the other one,” one of the men observed.

Faith made a face at the mysterious man’s choice of words. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” She stood up abruptly and brushed the sand from her palms. “But I’m the Chosen One now. I guess you guys didn’t get the memo.”

“We cannot give you knowledge, Slayer. Only power.”

The Boston girl shrugged, allowing her cocky attitude to mask her fear. “That’s cool with me, yo. Never was one for all that school business. Power though? Power I can do.”

The short man in the middle grunted. “Wengine moja alikataa vipi sisi walitoa rushwa.”

“The other one refused what we offered,” translated one of the tall men. “And that’s why Evil is determined to end the Slayer line.”

Faith nodded her understanding. “Willow’s spell. There was never meant to be more than one of us at a time. Only One Girl in All the World.”

The third man spread his arms apart, his palms facing upward. “We offer you a chance to beat Angelus.”

The middle shadow man glared cautiously at the leather-clad slayer. “Lakini wewe sharti kunipa sisi kitu mnamo.”

Faith looked at the man who had translated before, her eyebrows raised questioning.

“But you must give us something in return,” he stated.

The formerly rogue slayer frowned. Of course there would be a catch. There was always a catch. “Tell me what you want,” she demanded of the men, her voice strong and unwavering.

The leader of the shadow men thumped his walking stick on the barren ground.

“Utu enu.”

“Your humanity.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Buffy closed the door to Faith’s bedroom quietly and jumped when she heard the familiar English accent.

“Ah, Buffy. Good, I was hoping to run into you.”

Buffy spun on her heels and found herself face-to-face with her former Watcher.

“Giles! Hey!” she squeaked. She looked back at the closed door. “Great. How am I going to explain this one?” she silently stormed.

The Englishman removed his glasses and glanced at the closed door as well. “Is Faith in there?” he asked innocently.

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen her all day,” Buffy stated truthfully. “I was, uhm, just using her shower. She has the best bathroom in the castle. I was in the gym earlier, certainly not in her room, and I got all sweaty from the working out. And I mean, it used to be my bedroom anyways,” the small slayer continued to babble, “but she said it was cool if I wanted to use her shower because I mentioned once how much I like the tiling in there and since she’s not evil anymore, she said I could use it and …what did you need to see me about?” The blonde woman sucked in a deep breath and tried to control the rapid beating of her heart.

“Oh, well. That’s good,” Giles said, raising his eyebrows at his former Slayer. “Uh, yes. So I’ve been looking over these blasted contracts Lilah Morgan brought to the meeting.”

“Oh?” Buffy raised her voice, hoping she sounded interested enough to make the Englishman forget her suspicious rambling.

“Yes, I’ve been looking for loop-holes….anything that might indicate that it would be unwise for Faith to battle against Angelus.”

The blonde’s face fell. “So you think she should fight him, too,” she stated, deflated by the words.

Giles’s mouth twisted into an odd shape. “Buffy. I…I know how much your emotions are invested in this…”

Buffy gasped inaudibly. “Does he know too? Do I have a friggin’ sign on my face that says I’ve been having sex with Faith?”

“…but you must believe me when I tell you that Angel turning into Angelus again has been hard on us all…”

The California woman exhaled. Still a secret. For now.

“…but I do believe that our best option here is to have Faith face off against Angelus. Unless they magically enhance his strength, she has a good chance against him.”

Buffy’s eyes flashed wide. “Can they do that?” she asked, alarmed.

The Watcher shook his head. “I don’t know at this point. Which is why I’m scouring over these contracts.”

Buffy bit her bottom lip. Faith had already admitted to being defeated before by Angelus when he was at normal strength. She certainly would be no match if they somehow altered his already enhanced abilities

Giles continued. “Also, I was curious about the terms of the battle…how this contract could hold Twilight and his minions from being a further threat to the Slayer line.” He rearranged his glasses on the bridge of his nose and peered down at the paper in his hand. “But I’ve found something remarkable.” His voice became more eager and excited as he continued. “If…I mean, when Faith defeats Angelus,” the Watcher corrected himself, “all demons, all magics will be banished from this dimension.”

Buffy blinked once, a vacant look splayed across her face.

The Watcher looked up from the contract and recognized the confusion in the girl’s expression. “All vampires will cease to exist,” he clarified. “All demons will be sent to alternate dimensions, and witches will lose their abilities to do magics.”

A look of realization slowly crawled onto the blonde’s angelic features. “And Slayers?” she posed. “Will we lose our power too?”

Giles frowned thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought about that.” His handsome features looked troubled. “I honestly don’t know, Buffy.” The Watcher paused and removed his glasses. He stood dumbstruck for a few moments, chewing on the ends of his glasses. “Without Evil,” he cautiously continued, “you wouldn’t need your Slayer strength. The Powers that Be would have no further use for any Champions or any Slayers if this world was devoid of mystical energies. You would have served your purpose,” he stated more confidently. “And I dare say you would be free to live out the rest of your life, a regular human being.”

Buffy made no comment as she allowed Giles’s words to swim around inside her head.

“It’s amazing,” the Englishman gushed. “Remarkable. To see the end of magics in our time…”

“And if we lose?” Buffy interrupted the man’s revelation. “If Angelus…” she stumbled on the words, “…defeats Faith?”

“Then Faith would be dead,” Giles stated sadly. “And…and I’m afraid Twilight will most certainly destroy the Slayer line once he takes possession of the scythe. All but one Slayer, however, to return the balance. It would be back to only One Girl in All the World again.” Giles paused and looked down at his former charge whom he had grown to know and love as a daughter. “And, Buffy,” he started hesitantly. “I don’t believe that this One Girl would be you anymore. When you died the first time…”

“I’m a Slayer,” Buffy interrupted sharply, “but not THE Slayer. I know, Giles. It’s the whole reason I gave up the scythe to Faith.”

“Yes. I know,” the English Watcher sighed. “And I haven’t had the opportunity to congratulate you on how well you’ve behaved, allowing Faith to lead the others. But if she loses…if she fails to defeat Angelus…the new Chosen One might be a girl who has not yet reached the age of sixteen, it could be one of the thousands of girls who have already been Called. The only thing that is certain, however, is that it wouldn’t be you.”

Giles’s words struck the blonde slayer hard. She felt like someone had punched her in the midsection, momentarily stunning her and cutting off her air supply.

Either way – whether Faith won or lost – Buffy would lose her powers.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Faith chuckled nervously as she watched the dark man attach the metal cuffs to her wrists. “Ya know,” she stated, “I’m all about the kink, but isn’t this a little much?”

“The other one resisted,” the mysterious man stated simply. “What you have to do next won’t be easy. These are just a precaution.”

Faith jangled the chains that connected her to the solid ground. “Precaution?” she squeaked, her courage momentarily faltering. “Against what?”

Without answering her question, the shadow man walked away from the dangerous woman and joined the other two men. The ancient figures began tapping their staves against the ground in a rhythmic pattern. One of the three brought a black box to the center of the cave and removed its top.

“Here lies the origins of your strength in its purest form,” one of the men recited. “The energy of the demon. Its spirit. Its heart.”

“You made the first Slayer from a demon?” Faith asked incredulously. She began to twitch and unconsciously pull at the chains that held her fastened to the ground.

Black smoke rose from the box in the form of long tentacles. The misty appendages danced around three men in time to their rhythmic chanting.

“It will become one with you and ready you for the battle,” informed the tallest of the three shadow men.

The black smoke crept away from the shadow men and closer to the bound slayer. Faith struggled slightly, pulling her head back to evade the essence as long as she could, but in her bound state, soon there was no place for her to go. She began screaming as the black smoke entered her body through her nose, ears, and mouth.

The Boston girl’s body writhed in pain as the demon’s essence invaded her body. The smoke curled around her body like a boa constrictor, strangling the humanity from her form and replacing it with something more powerful, more dark. The three shadow men continued to chant until her form tensed for a final time and then collapsed onto the cold stone ground.

The men ended their chanting and walked out of the cave, leaving the chained slayer behind.

“It is done.”

+++++++++++

TBC


	14. Just Human Enough

**POV Faith**

When I regain consciousness, the first thing I feel is Power. I’ve always felt powerful ever since I was Called, but this is new. This is so much more. It’s almost as if I’m conscious of every muscle in my body. I can feel my heart thudding in its cavity – the blood pumping through my veins.

The cave is dark now, and I realize I must have been unconscious all day; after completing the spell, the Shadow Men left me here. I stand up and remember I’m still chained to the solid earth. I flex my forearms, clenching my fists, and the metal cuffs around my wrists snap apart easily, the chains falling to the stone floor with a noisy clatter. The noise is deafening, making me slightly wince in the darkness; apparently my hearing has been enhanced even more as well.

I exit the cave and stalk out into the dark of the night. The stars above are shining brightly in the deep purple sky, but I don’t need their light to guide my travels since it appears that I have wicked night vision now too. A brisk evening breeze washes over the desert, making the hairs on my bare arms stand on end. Damn. Everything on my body is pulsing and twitching. I’ve never felt so alive.

I walk for a few minutes until I feel a kind of déjà vu flutter over my memory. I smell the air and crouch to the ground to feel the sand between my fingers. This is familiar. This is where I entered this world and found the Shadow Men.

Now I just have to wait. Wait for Dawn and Robin to figure out how to get me back.

+++++++++++++++

“What is this? Some kind of Demon Fight Club?”

Robin snapped the hulking creature’s neck and looked up to see the small blonde standing on the bottom stair. Dawn squeaked in surprise and stopped her methodical chanting. Eyeballing the dead demon on the ground, Buffy descended the final stair and walked closer to the two delinquents.

“Robin,” she stated looking suspiciously at the man, “if you were that bored that you wanted to hang out with an unsupervised mermaid, you really should have talked to me first. And Dawnie,” she continued to chastise, “are you doing magic? Seriously. Don’t you think you’ve had enough magic this year?”

“I, uh, we – we,” Robin stuttered. He sighed deeply, realizing he’d been caught. “First rule of Demon Fight Club…” he finally muttered under his breath. He tore his eyes from Buffy’s accusing stare and kicked idly at the monster heaped by his feet.

Before Buffy could continue to interrogate the two, a blue portal suddenly sprawled across one of the basement stone walls. Without a word of explanation, Robin hefted the dead demon up from the cement ground and hastily shoved the creature through the blue pulsing light. Within seconds, an exhausted-looking Faith popped out of the wall in its place.

“Okay,” Buffy frowned. “This is just getting weirder and weirder.”

The dark slayer stood up from her kneeled position and brushed the sand from the palms of her hands and onto her leather pants. She nodded in the direction of Robin and Dawn who looked anxiously at the Boston girl as if expecting a report. “Thanks, you two,” Faith acknowledged cryptically.

Her voice sounded different to the blonde slayer – musical…melodic…almost as if she was singing the words.

Buffy scanned the darkened room and her eyes fell upon a metal box, seemingly forgotten on a small wooden table. Immediately recognizing the shadow box, she darted her eyes quickly at Dawn and Robin and then back toward the Boston slayer. Buffy stared at her lover, but the other woman’s expressive eyes were no longer liquid pools of dark chocolate. Where once there had been love and devotion was now only cold vengeance and the look of an unmistakable ancient power.

Buffy felt her heart quicken within her chest and her lungs constrict and tighten. Unable to catch her breath, the small slayer became suddenly nauseas and light-headed. The walls of the castle dungeon seemed to fluctuate like she had just woken up with a slayer-sized hangover. The room wouldn’t stop spinning. Buffy reached out quickly for something to stop herself from falling.

Her hand reflexively grabbed for something solid. It fell on the steely arm of the recently returned slayer, who had moved with lightening-fast reflexes to catch the falling woman. The muscles in Faith’s arm flexed and quivered under Buffy’s panicked touch like a feral feline’s. The Boston woman’s skin felt like she was burning up, yet her skin was dry.

“What did you _do_?” Buffy whispered, her voice a rough accusation. She continued to cling onto Faith’s sinewy arm for support. The walls began to shift back into focus.

The dark slayer’s voice was like a low, velvety purr as she stared hard into the smaller woman’s hazel-green eyes. “I’m going to defeat Angelus and save the world,” she explained simply. “This was the only way.”

“There’s _always_ another way,” Buffy insisted, her voice growing shrill with the weight of desperate emotions. She looked at the discarded shadow box again, remembering its metal figures and her own trip through the same portal only a few years prior. “The Shadow Men…they took away your humanity,” she accused. “You accepted the demon’s power.”

Faith shook her head slowly, not breaking her eye-lock on the blonde. Despite the heat in the other woman’s voice, the Boston slayer remained uncharacteristically even-tempered. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change a thing,” she assured calmly, as if talking to a child. “I don’t need to be human to know that I still love you, Buffy.”

Robin coughed anxiously from a corner of the basement. “So, I’ll, uh, I’ll be seeing you ladies later,” he announced awkwardly. The man felt suddenly guilty not only because he had approached Faith about the Emergency Slayer Kit without consulting the rest of the group first, but also for witnessing this intimate interaction between the two slayers.

“Faith,” he nodded towards the Boston slayer before ascending the stairs to the main floor, “It’s good to have you back. You did the right thing.”

“So what now?” squeaked Dawn from her watery home. She looked back and forth between the two slayers who remained focused on only each other.

Faith turned to look at her mermaid accomplice. “I have to find Giles and tell him what’s happened,” she stated somberly. Looking down, she took the blonde slayer’s hand in her own burning palm. “This changes everything. We’re gonna win.”

++++++++++++++++

“Remarkable. Simply…remarkable.”

The English Watcher removed his glasses and absent-mindedly wiped at the lenses with the hem of his wool sweater.

For the past few hours, Giles had examined Faith’s enhanced abilities – her improved reflexes, strength, and agility, as well as her internal physical changes. Her body temperature had risen to 101 degrees and her heart pulsed faster in her chest. Although the Englishman had originally chastised his impulsive charge for making such a dangerous journey and decision, seemingly on a whim, he did unabashedly marvel at the transformation. She had all of her formal mental capacities intact – thankfully not reverting into a Neanderthal – but her physical skills were greatly advanced for even a veteran Slayer.

As Buffy observed her sister-Slayer humor Giles and his attempts to be thorough in his experimentation, she couldn’t help but notice that ever since Faith had returned from the shadow trip, their Slayer connection felt off. Thankfully it didn’t remind her of how her slayer-senses prickled when a vampire or demon was near. But their connection, which normally tickled her down to the bones, felt very different. And if possible, she felt even more drawn to the rogue slayer despite knowing what she was now.

 _“Damn it, Buffy,_ ” she silently chastised herself. She stuck her bottom lip out in a well-practiced pout. _“Why can’t you ever get involved with a human for a change?”_

The brunette woman flashed her dark eyes towards the small blonde as if she could read her thoughts. “It could be worse, B,” she called across the training room. “At least I don’t have a tail,” she chuckled. Faith dismounted the treadmill and Giles busied himself with writing down his notes, mumbling under his breath.

Buffy’s eyes flashed wide. “You heard that?” She sputtered out a surprised complaint and jumped up from her seat, looking ready to bolt out of the room.

“Easy, Blondie.” Faith raised her hands up in mock surrender and walked closer to the blonde. “I promise I can’t read your thoughts; your thoughts are still safe.” Her face broke out into a full-wattage smile. “But your face is just so damn easy to read, girlfriend,” she explained. “I don’t need kick-ass super powers to be able to know what you’re thinkin’ right now. I know this is wiggin’ you out.”

Buffy frowned guiltily at the woman. Faith’s recent transformation had made her feel anything but at ease.

Faith sensed that the blonde girl was building walls. “Remind me never to take you to a poker game, k? We’d lose big time,” she tried, lightly.

“Just promise me there won’t be kittens,” the blonde grumbled, returning to her seat.

The brunette chuckled lowly and shook her head. Even though Buffy usually wore her emotions on her face, sometimes there was no way of knowing what was going on inside the blonde’s head.

“Aight, I’m off you two,” Faith breezed, mopping at her forehead with the small towel. She took a long pull from her water bottle. “Gonna go talk to the rest of the troops. Let ‘em know what’s going down.”

The tall slayer headed for the exit and paused before she went out the gym’s front doors. “Try not to talk too much about me when I’m gone, okay?” she gave the Watcher and the elder slayer a knowing grin.

Giles returned to his clipboard and mumbled something about cocky Americans under his breath. The elder slayer watched as the new Chosen One exited the training facility. When she was sure that her sister-Slayer was out of earshot, Buffy exploded.

“She’s right you know,” she burst out.

Giles looked up from his notes and gave the blonde slayer a trying look. “Right about what, Buffy?”

“We’re going to talk about her while she’s gone,” Buffy stated matter-of-factly. “Giles,” the small woman continued, “she said the Shadow Men told her that our Sunnydale spell is why the fight against Angelus has to happen. If I had taken them up on their offer the first time, Faith wouldn’t have had to do this. Twilight would never have been a threat.”

“This wouldn’t have helped you defeat the First,” Giles gently insisted, shaking his head. “Willow’s spell was our only hope at that moment. You were right to dismiss what the Shadow Men had to offer you.”

Buffy eyeballed the Watcher. She could always tell when he had something else to say. “You’re keeping something from me,” she softly prodded. “What’s wrong?”

Giles frowned and removed his glasses again. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “This demon essence,” he started. “It’s…it’s too much for Faith’s body to handle.”

He grimaced and returned his glasses to his worry-lined face. “We can’t delay the battle against Angelus any longer or her body will self-destruct. No human body, Slayer or no Slayer, was meant for this kind of power.”

+++++++++++++++++++

After leaving Giles, Buffy wrestled with her conscious, but went looking for Faith anyway. The elder woman felt torn. Should she tell the Boston slayer about Giles’s hypothesis? If the dark woman battled Angelus soon, it would be an unnecessary conversation. However, the blonde couldn’t fight the desire to chastise the younger slayer for making such an impulsive and dangerous decision without first talking to the rest of the group – without first consulting her.

The Californian practically stumbled onto the younger woman. Buffy found the dangerously enticing woman reclined on her back in a meadow, thin reeds of tall grass framing her body. Instead of seeking out the rest of the Scoobies, Faith had escaped beyond the Scottish castle’s closely manicured lawn and had found solace among the weeds.

Faith felt no need to acknowledge the other woman’s presence and continued to stare into the sky as the blues began to transform into pinks and purples. The two hardly surprised each other in this way; they could always feel each other, Faith even more so now. She could hear the gentle pulsing of the blonde’s heart beating inside her chest. She could feel the grasses flexing and bending as the blonde shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Faith could even smell the faint scent of sweat and subtle arousal emanating from the elder slayer. The formerly rogue slayer’s most basic instincts screamed at her to take the woman standing above her, but Faith swallowed back her primal needs and closed her eyes instead.

Not waiting for an invitation, the California slayer took a position in the tall grass next to the raven-haired woman. Looking up into the sky, Buffy breathed in the crisp evening air and exhaled deeply. She had to admit that was relieved that Faith couldn’t read her thoughts with her new enhanced abilities. She didn’t want to have to tell her about Giles’s prediction that her own body was betraying her, slowly destroying itself because of the demon essence. She didn’t want to remind the Boston woman that whether she won or lost against Angelus, she would no longer be a Slayer. There was no need to complicate things any more than they already were. All she wanted was to bottle up this moment and keep it perfect forever.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Faith rolled over onto her side and wordlessly began to map the small blonde’s body with the pads of her fingers. She continued touching her gently as though Buffy was a fragile porcelain doll, as if the Boston woman feared that too pressure much might break the small slayer.

“Do you still want me,” Buffy whispered, reaching up to cup the younger girl’s face in her hand, “even though…”

“Even though I’m not exactly human?” Faith finished, smiling softly. “Shouldn’t I be asking _you_ that question, Sunshine?”

Buffy smiled impishly at the dangerously beautiful woman’s words and the unexpected pet name. Twinkie – Blondie – Girlfriend – Princess…those were nicknames she’d heard all before from Faith, even before they had become so intimate with each other. “Sunshine” was a pleasant surprise.

The raven-haired woman pulled the smaller slayer’s hand from her face and brought it up to her mouth, softly kissing the other woman’s knuckles, barely brushing her thick lips against the soft skin. Buffy felt her eyes drawn to her hand as the Boston-born slayer placed careful pressure there. Faith’s touch was fire-y, even more so than usual, due to her accelerated heart rate and body temperature.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that right?” Buffy murmured to her lover. Her face was scrunched up as if it pained her to look directly at the younger woman’s features – like staring straight into a solar eclipse and rendering yourself blind just for the opportunity to witness such an event.

“Oh, yeah?” Faith smiled and eagerly pulled her tight t-shirt off, haphazardly yanking it over her wild mass of dark hair, leaving her only in a sports bra and track pants. “What do ya think of _this_ view, B?”

Buffy pulled the dark woman’s face towards her and answered her question with a deep kiss. She pressed her lips solidly against the other girl’s upturned mouth and darted her tongue out between her teeth to swab at the brunette’s bottom lip. “Can’t get enough of _that_ view,” Buffy mumbled into her mouth.

Wasting no time, Faith pulled the smaller slayer up to a seated position and removed the blonde’s top as well, revealing the crimson bra. She eyeballed the Californian’s upper torso appreciatively. “Speaking of nice views,” she rasped admiringly, her voice a low purr. Faith leaned forward and nuzzled her nose into the crook of Buffy’s neck. She inhaled deeply, letting herself be consumed by her lover’s scent.

“Faith?” Buffy questioned, a giggle stuck in her throat. She cocked her head to look down at the brunette. “Are you smelling me – Oh God,” she groaned at the sudden sensation of Faith gently biting her right nipple through the thin lace of her bra. The Boston woman smiled around the hardening nipple, feeling Buffy’s body instantly respond. She continued to lavish attention to the two tight nubs through the delicate material of the red undergarment. Buffy moaned lowly, arching her back and pushing her chest desperately at the brunette.

Wordlessly, Faith gently pushed her lover back. She cupped the back of the other woman’s head and neck in her strong hand, guiding her back onto the soft grass-covered meadow. The blonde slayer looked up at her from underneath thick eyelashes. Faith felt a growl stir in the back of her throat, but she swallowed hard and ignored the inferno raging in her body.

The Boston girl leaned down again and placed light kisses on the small blonde’s bare stomach. Her lips waltzed down the skin as though they’d spent a lifetime practicing for this moment. She paused briefly to dip her talented tongue into Buffy’s shallow belly button and allowed herself a small smile when she heard the other slayer’s heart beat just a little faster.

Faith lightly skimmed the tips of her fingers down Buffy’s bare legs and up the insides of her sensitive thighs. Buffy leaned her weight on her elbows, slightly sinking into the soft turf beneath her to prop herself up. Her mouth parted slightly and she swabbed her tongue across her full bottom lip. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the brunette slowly inch her skirt up, revealing more of her bronzed thighs.

With deliberate and painfully slow movements, the raven-haired beauty inched the material up the small woman’s shapely legs, increasing both of their anticipation. The soft cotton material brushed against the increasingly sensitive skin of Buffy’s inner thighs. Her eyes fluttered slightly closed as she continued to watch her lover’s ministrations.

Faith continued pushing the soft material up, bunching the cotton skirt around the blonde’s slender hips. The dark haired beauty inched her fingertips closer to her goal. She slowly ran two fingers down the small blonde’s panty-covered slit, pausing to gently rub the swollen clit through the material of the cotton barrier. Faith could just barely feel the small bump beginning to protrude between the soft lips. Buffy gasped when she felt her partner’s teasing touch and she subtly rolled her hips, silently pleading for more.

The Boston slayer crawled on her knees, bringing her face just inches from the other woman’s covered sex. She could feel the heat of Buffy’s sex burning against her face like a warm camp fire. And the scent. The scent of the blonde’s perfect pussy was almost too much for her to resist ripping the offending undergarment away in a fury of shredded cotton-poly blend. She wet her thick lips and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, contemplating. Buffy’s inner thighs quivered around her ears, the slight movement echoing inside her ear canals. And then she heard the plea. The angelic prayer. “Please,” Buffy whispered almost inaudibly.

Faith leaned forward, brushing her thick tongue against the California girl’s panty-covered clit. She slowly tongued the other woman’s aching sex through the thin material of the blonde’s cotton undergarment. The raven-haired woman sucked on the material, rubbing it lightly against the other woman’s sex. Buffy cried out in frustration when she felt Faith’s tongue pushing slightly into her hot slit as far as it could go with the panty barrier still in place.

The dark-haired woman took her time. She didn’t feel rushed or desperate, as so many of their recent love-making sessions had become. It was as if they had all the time in the world to make love to one another, although both women knew that not to be true. It was only a matter of time before Faith would face off against Angelus for the Fate of the World.

Finally, the dark slayer gave in to her lover’s pleading murmurs. She hooked her thumbs along the elastic waistband and slowly slid the other woman’s panties off, the damp cotton slightly sticking to the blonde’s most intimate places. Faith paused to contemplate the skirt, still lewdly gathered at Buffy’s waist, but her own need screamed too loudly for her to properly undress the golden-haired slayer.

Returning to her previous position, Faith breathed in deeply, enjoying the scent of the other woman. She reached her tongue out, and Buffy hissed at the first touch. Faith gently lapped at the blonde’s shaved sex, the flat of her tongue dancing over the sensitive skin. Buffy softly sighed and entangled her fingers in the blades of grass by her sides. \

Faith ran the tip of her tongue along the insides of the blonde’s pink folds and her nose bumped softly into the other woman’s enflamed clit.

“Oh God. Lick my pussy, Faith,” Buffy groaned. “Yes, baby,” she urged, ripping clumps of grass from the ground. “Fuck. Just like that.” She gasped and moaned loudly as the younger slayer continued her gentle assault.

Buffy thrust her small hips up to garner more friction, grinding her naked pussy into the brunette’s beautiful face, eliciting a small growl from the other woman. Faith pushed down hard on the blonde’s pelvic bone, holding her still and licking her pussy into submission. Buffy felt the explosion quickly creeping upon her. After all of the Boston slayer’s deliberate teasing, she knew it wouldn’t take long for her to crash over the edge.

The raven-haired slayer was determined to make her lover climax without ever penetrating her. She flattened her tongue and continued to lick along the woman’s wet channel, greedily drinking in all that Buffy had to offer. The blonde woman squirmed and struggled beneath the tight grip of the stubborn slayer, intent on finding a quick release.

Faith sucked the small, swollen clit into her mouth and lightly nibbled on the bundle of sensitive nerves. When she flicked the bud back and forth with the tip her tongue, Buffy couldn’t distinguish if the bursts of light that flashed across her pupils were from shooting stars, lightning, or her very talented lover’s tongue.

The slayer groaned in disappointment when she felt the brunette woman release her hold on her clit and move instead to her inner thigh where her left leg connected to her tortured sex. Wordlessly, Faith clamped her mouth hard onto the sensitive skin there and began sucking hard, alternately sinking her teeth into the flesh. Buffy’s eyes flashed wide and her entire body shook and twitched from the new sensation.

Although Faith had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout their intimate exchange, the blonde could now hear the soft growls emanating from the younger slayer. Her hold was unforgiving, unrelenting, as she branded the inside of Buffy’s thigh with her mark. Buffy grabbed onto the brunette’s unruly hair and twisted the waves around her feminine fingers, encouraging her lover to continue. With a final brutal bite, Faith released her lock on the blonde’s flesh and quickly returned her attentions to the woman’s aching sex. She sucked the small slayer’s inflamed clit back into her mouth and Buffy bucked her hips.

The blonde felt herself falling over the edge; closer and closer to the impending orgasm. She grabbed onto the back of the brunette’s head pulled her face impossibly closer to her naked sex. Faith noisily licked and sucked at the tender nub, needing to give her partner the pleasure she desired. Buffy’s body went rigid and she howled her release, letting the orgasm that began as gentle waves lapping on a shoreline, escalade into a tidal wave from which she might never resurface.

Buffy gasped, sucking in the cool evening air in deep breaths. “That was…that was,” she panted, finally finding her voice again. Her hand fluttered up to her forehead and she felt how hot and damp her skin had become in her exertions.

A silent smile slowly stretched across the expanse of the brunette’s mouth as she stared up at her lover from between her still quivering thighs. The smile was all Faith Lehane. Thick, bruising lips curling up playfully and deep, perfect dimples carved into her cheeks. But the eyes – the coal black eyes didn’t belong to her. It was as if someone else was living inside the Boston woman’s gorgeous body.

Faith crawled up to eye-level with the smaller woman, never breaking the cold, hard stare and the wide smile. For a brief moment, the blonde slayer felt afraid, as if she was staring into a stranger’s face. Then, the Boston girl rolled onto her back and wordlessly stared up at the sky.

“It’s twilight,” the dark slayer murmured, her voice a little deeper than her usual husk.

It took the blonde a moment to realize that Faith was referring to the time of day and not their most recent Big Bad. Still laying on her back, the small slayer grabbed her lover’s hand, entwining their fingers together. “You’d better win,” she whispered thickly, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach. “You’d better come back to me.”

Faith rolled onto her side once again and stared hard at the elder slayer. “I promise, B,” she stated seriously, her tongue gliding over the smooth words. “I told you once before that I’d never leave you.”

“No…none of that,” Buffy protested. She closed her eyes tightly to shut off the tears she felt leaking out of her over-active tear ducts. “You need to be _here_ ,” she clarified pointedly. “Not a ghost. Not a Slayer dream. I want all five foot, five inches of you here. I need you _here_.”

“You’re not just saying that cause you just came all over my face, are ya Twinkie?” Faith lightly teased, her dimples flashing.

The blonde ignored the other woman’s defense mechanism. Although Faith made promises now, they both knew that even with her extra power, Angelus would still be a formidable opponent. Neither could be certain what would happen in that conflict.

As the elder slayer stared into her lover’s eyes, she but couldn’t help but notice the chocolate flecks return to the once-brown irises. They quickly faded, however, and returned to the cold, charcoal grey color they had retained ever since the Boston woman had come back through the portal.

“Hey, baby?” Faith’s melodic voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two slayers. “I think the stars are moving again.”

+++++++++++++++++++

TBC


	15. Let's Get Ready to Ruuummmbbbllleee....

The blonde leaned her head against the frosted window, her cheek feeling the chill that existed beyond the pane of glass. The city flashed by, illuminated buildings just vibrant streams of light as the train sped along the bumpy track. Buffy rubbed at her eyes and took in her surroundings, noting that the passenger car was empty save herself and a few other patrons scattered around the desolate space. They were all too absorbed in their own thoughts, reading books and newspapers or plugged into their iPods, to note the confusion on her face. She shifted in her seat, the molded plastic doing nothing to afford herself more comfort.

The vehicle clattered along its track, racing through the blackness of night. The overhead lights flickered above with each jarring turn of the elevated train. The vehicle’s lights dimmed completely as the car surged underground. When the lights returned, Buffy realized that another passenger had unexpectedly boarded, despite the subway having made no stops.

“It’s you.” Buffy stated, her eyes growing narrow as she stared hard at the shifting figure. “What do you want this time?”

Standing, or rather crouching, in front of the California slayer was an ancient, feral-looking woman. She hid her features behind the mask of charcoal and whitewashed make-up. Her torn and ragged-look clothing did little more than cover the woman’s most intimate and vulnerable parts. The Original Slayer slowly stalked around the confined space, eyeballing the blonde woman seated before her as though she were planning her next meal. The other passengers on the train took no notice of the dreadlocked Primitive.

“It’s in your power to stop Faith from this fight,” she finally growled, still moving around in a crouched position, unable to remain stationary for long.

“What?” Buffy involuntarily clenched tightly onto the sides of her plastic seat and grit her teeth together. “Are you saying she’s going to lose?”

The First slayer cocked her head to the side and looked at her chosen descendent. “Faith will win,” she explained curtly. “But you will lose.”

“Lose? Lose how?” Buffy scrunched up her features, confused by the cryptic message. “You mean my powers?”

“If Faith fights Angelus,” the mysterious fighter continued to explain, “you will lose your heart.”

The train screamed, its piercing whistle filling the night air. Buffy sat up straight in bed, her eyes flying open. She hastily reached over to the bedside table and smashed her hand into the alarm clock, silencing its morning call. The woman felt her heart racing in her chest, and she gripped the sheets tightly in her clenched fists until the blood-pumping muscle calmed down.

A low purring and a warm body next to her naked form alerted her to the fact that she wasn’t alone.

“Morning, baby,” came the husky voice, lower and thicker than usual due to the early morning hour. The dark slayer rolled on her back and brushed her sleep-wild hair out of her face. The sheets rearranged as she fought to tame her stubborn hair, revealing more of the olive-tinted skin.

“You sleep okay?” Buffy asked uneasily, pulling her own blonde tangles into a loose ponytail.

Faith stretched and emitted a sound that resembled a low purr. The sheet traveled further south down her elongated torso. “Mmhmm. Like a log,” she murmured.

Buffy anxiously toyed with the top edge of her comforter. “No, um…no dreams?”

Faith gave the other slayer a lopsided grin as she turned on her side and rested her weight on one elbow. “Nothing ‘cept the memory of some wicked hot action last night, girlfriend.”

Buffy blushed briefly, unable to resist the lascivious grin her lover was currently giving her. The dark slayer always looked ready and eager to devour her partner.

“I’ve gotta talk to Giles about something,” the elder slayer mumbled, pushing back the covers. “You getting up soon?”

The brunette woman buried her face back into the downy goodness of her pillow. She mumbled incoherently and waved a hand at the other slayer, shooing her away.

Before crawling out of bed, Buffy turned and kissed the Boston slayer’s bare shoulder, the olive-toned flesh peaking above the top of the comforter. “I’m gonna go make some coffee,” she mumbled into the soft, fragrant skin. “Come down when you’re ready, okay?”

Faith growled into the pillow, but made no motion to get up. Despite the memory of her most recent Slayer dream trampling noisily through her brain, Buffy smiled at the disgruntled woman beside her. Finally, she slid out of bed and silently redressed in her pajamas, not wanting to disturb her lover’s rest anymore than she already had that morning.

Chewing on her toothbrush, Buffy bounced into the castle kitchen and found the English Watcher sitting at the circular kitchen table. Giles sat drinking his habitual cup of tea and reading over an ancient text. He looked up when he heard the wooden floorboards creak upon the blonde woman’s entrance.

“Ah, good morning, Buffy,” he greeted, setting his teacup back on its porcelain saucer to greet the blonde girl. “I trust you slept well last night?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Buffy silently pondered, feeling the telltale blush creep onto her cheeks. “Yes, Giles. I always sleep well after multiple orgasms.”

Buffy realized she hadn’t spoken aloud yet and her former Watcher continued to stare at her expectantly. “Oh! Uhm, yup,” she babbled. “Slept like a log.” The slayer paused and cocked her head to the side, remembering Faith’s words from just moments prior. “What does that even mean, anyways? Sleep like a log…I mean, do logs really sleep?”

“Well, if that’s not a rhetorical question,” Giles started, taking a deep breath, “the phrase originated in the1600s and refers to one sleeping immobile –,”

“Thanks for the history lesson, Giles,” the slayer interrupted, looking suddenly impatient.

“Well actually, it’s not quite history; it’s an idiom,” he corrected, taking another sip of tea.

“I had a dream last night,” Buffy blurted out unceremoniously. She waved her toothbrush around in the air. “The First Slayer made a guest appearance. Actually, she was more like the main show.”

Giles re-adjusted the glasses on his face. “Very interesting,” he stated, looking impressed at his former charge. “And the timing is impeccable what with the impending battle.”

“Uh-huh,” Buffy continued, sounding distracted. “She said I was going to lose my heart.”

Giles’s eyes narrowed as he furrowed his lined forehead. “What else did she say?” he asked gravely.

Buffy sighed and plunked down at the kitchen table across from the seated man. “She said that I had the power to stop the fight; that Faith will beat Angelus; and I was going to lose my heart.”

Giles pursed his lips, sinking deep in thought. He fiddled with the string hanging from his teacup. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Anything else?”

“I was on the subway,” Buffy deadpanned.

The Englishman raised an eyebrow at his former charge. “And that’s it?”

The blonde nodded once. “That’s it,” she confirmed. “And then I woke up.”

The Watcher leaned back slightly in his chair, looking as though his brain was hard at work. “Well there’s no doubt that you had another prophetic Slayer dream,” he thought out loud. “I suppose the First Slayer could be referring to the fact that if Faith wins, you all will lose your Slayer abilities. Perhaps that is to what she is referring when she says ‘your heart.’”

Buffy looked perplexed. “But why would she warn me about that? I already knew that was going to happen,” she questioned, her voice sounding a tad shriller than she liked. “I mean, she said that I could stop the fight.”

Giles leaned forward. “Did she say you should stop the fight or that you could?”

Buffy frowned and thought hard. “Could.” She said the word with slight hesitation. “I’m almost positive she said it was ‘in my power’ to stop the fight. Like, the decision was up to me or something.”

Giles raked his fingers through his short hair. “I wonder if she sought you out as a kind of self-preservation tactic. It would seem to confirm my suspicions that if Faith wins….”

Buffy gave the man a hard look.

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” Giles stumbled. “When Faith wins, then the Slayer-line will become dormant. Perhaps the partial demon within you – your Slayer essence – is afraid of being banished until this Melaka Fray girl you spoke about earlier is Chosen two hundred years from now.”

The small slayer chewed on her bottom lip and drummed her fingers against the wooden table. “So you think that’s what all this business is about my heart getting lost?” she questioned.

“I do, yes.” Giles sounded convinced by his interpretation. “I seriously doubt that The Primitive literally means your heart will fall out of your body.”

Buffy gave her former Watcher a half-smile. “Well that’s good to know,” she quipped. “Cause, you know…I need it.”

“If it will help to put your mind at ease, I’ll do some more research – consult a few texts that could be helpful,” Giles stated. “But I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about at this point,” he gently assured. “I’ll let you know if I find anything out.”

Buffy smiled gratefully at the Englishman. “Thanks, Giles.”

The two looked towards the kitchen doorway quickly when they heard the noisy entrance of a frazzled witch.

“Where’s Faith?” Willow blustered as she rushed into the kitchen. She looked out-of-breath and flustered.

Buffy felt the blush crawling back onto her face at the mention of the other slayer’s name. “Uh, still in her bed, I think,” she mumbled to her best friend. “Why?”

Willow looked as though it was taking all of her energy to not vomit all over the kitchen floor. Her lips twitched erratically. “Because the battle’s happening tonight.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

“So what are the rules?”

Faith and Angelus stood face to face at the center of Cleveland Browns Stadium, their faces equally grave. Clenched tightly in the dark slayer’s fist was the slayer scythe. It gleamed silver and red against the overhead stadium lights. Angelus held his own weapon by his side, an ominous looking sword.

Lilah Morgan stood at the fifty-yard line between the two Champions. “The rules are this: only you two may fight in this battle of Champions; there is to be no outside interference. Other than that, the only rule is to stay alive,” she smiled cruelly. “Whoever dies is the loser.”

Twilight clapped his hands together like a spoiled child receiving a present. “A fight to the death! I love it!” Amy, Warren, Gunn, and a handful of uniformed ranked officials sat with the masked man on the Visitor’s side of the football stadium.

“Why are we battling here anyway?” Robin asked his own group of Buffy, Willow, Kennedy, Xander, Dawn, Giles, Wesley, and Riley. “I’m sure it has something to do with the Hellmouth,” he continued, “but why the football stadium?”

“It turns out, the stadium was constructed directly over the Hellmouth,” Giles informed the small group seated across the field from the Visitors.

Riley snickered from his folding seat. “Guess that explains why the Browns suck so bad,” the Marine joked, his mouth twisted into a smirk.

“And no one’s worried that someone’s gonna notice a Battle to the Death happening at the fifty-yard line?” Xander questioned, his one good eye full of concern.

“Amy and I put a glamour over the stadium,” Willow chimed in. “To the outside world, the stadium looks completely normal.”

“That’s good to know,” Dawn sighed. Willow had conjured a giant water bubble for the mermaid to sit in so she too could attend the battle. The teenager felt unnervingly like a hamster in its plastic ball, but had insisted that she be present at the fight with the others. “I really didn’t feel like getting kidnapped and being forced to join the circus.” She flapped her tailfin once to emphasize her point.

The group of friends continued to idly chat amongst each other, using conversation to help expend some of their nervous energies. No one noticed that the eldest slayer remained silent, sitting amongst them. She took no part in their conversations; instead, she continued to stare down at the field, her hazel green eyes intensely gazing upon the two Champions readying themselves for battle.

“Once I kill you, I’m gonna eat all your friends,” growled the vampire. “Starting with Blondie.”

Faith’s cold black eyes narrowed to animalistic slits and she snarled possessively at the bloodsucking creature.

Angelus looked at the dark slayer with renewed interest. “She’s…” he paused, trailing off. “Her scent. It’s all over you.” He blinked once, and dropped his sword to his side. “Oh hell no,” he burst out laughing. “You and her? Oh, this is just too good.”

Faith’s mouth curled into a crude smile despite the situation. She had nothing to hide from this monster.

“Angel must have somehow kept that little morsel of information from me.” A cruel smile twisted onto the vampire’s dangerous mouth. “Unless even he didn’t know you were bangin’ the love of his life.” He ran the tip of his tongue across his pointed teeth. “Can’t say I blame you though. She does taste delicious – I should know.”

Faith felt the rage boiling within her as the cocky demon continued to strut. She pictured severing the monster’s head from its body and bathing in Angelus’s blood. She would have her victory. She would win this battle not only for the Fate of the World – she would win for Angel.

Angelus flashed his yellow eyes toward the blonde slayer seated in the bleachers. “She’s a tad too skinny for my tastes now,” the demon continued to banter, “but I’m sure I’ll still enjoy her the second time around.”

Faith raised the scythe, holding it diagonally in front of her body. “Keep talkin’,” she spit venomously. “It’s just gonna make me enjoy killin’ you even more.”

Angelus raised his sword once again, shielding his body. “If you’re lucky, gorgeous, I’ll make it quick.” He allowed his eyes to drift up and down the young slayer’s well-disciplined form. “But I think I might just take my time with you,” he winked.

Ignoring the bile that threatened to assault her throat, Faith gnashed her teeth and growled fiercely. The guttural noise startled all those in the stadium, including Angelus.

“Woah, woah,” he complained, backing up slightly, holding his hands up in front of his broad chest. “I signed up to fight a Slayer. I don’t know what the hell she is anymore.”

Lilah snapped at the vampire, growing restless with the two Champions’ mutual hesitation to begin the fight. “Oh grow a pair, Angelus,” she grumbled. “Are you two going to fight or just talk each other to death?” she complained, annoyance splayed on her ghostly features.

Faith lifted a hand and curled her fingers toward her body. “C’mon then, Fangboy. It’s just you and me.”

“Let’s dance, baby,” Angelus purred.

The two Champions circled each other, hesitantly eyeballing his or her opponent, looking for weaknesses, waiting for the opportunity to strike. Although the two had battled before, it was years ago and under highly different circumstances. And now, Faith was no more human than the soulless vampire.

Faith fell hard onto her back when the vampire swept his leg out, connecting with her kneecap. Taking advantage of the fallen woman’s vulnerability, Angelus swung his sword over his head and down toward the ground where she lay momentarily immobile.   
The dark slayer rolled out of the way of the undead creature’s weapon, and watched as the sword pierced the ground instead of her retreating body. Angelus grunted as he wretched the metal weapon out of the solid earth and Faith quickly bounced to her feet again.

His cocky smile faltered for only a moment before it returned to his upturned grin. He swung his sword in the air for show as the two continued to circle each other. “Got a few new moves since we last met, huh?” he grinned.

Faith swung the scythe at his head, but he deflected the blow with his sword, the two weapons clanging loudly. Angel swung his sword low, aiming a chopping blow at the lithe slayer’s shapely legs. The brunette woman easily jumped over the advancing threat.

“You gettin’ slow or something, grandpa?” the Boston woman countered. “I was hoping for a challenge.”

The two formidable fighters exchanged a rapid battering of blows. Sparks seemed to illuminate the air around them like fireworks from the intensity of their clashing weapons.

“You can’t win this,” Faith snarled at her undead opponent.

“Maybe not,” Angelus countered with a cruel smile on his mouth, “but I’m gonna have one hell of a time bringing you down with me.”

The two struck out at the same time and their weapons strained against each other mid-air, neither opponent willing to budge. Faith felt her arm muscles tensing and pulsing from the stress, her heart beat thumping louder and louder in her chest.

Holding his weapon tightly in his left hand, Angelus cocked his right arm back and connected his beefy fist with the dark slayer’s beautiful features. The Boston girl stumbled backwards, momentarily stunned by the blow. She reached up and swiped her thumb across her full bottom lip, tasting the familiar tang of her own blood. She grinned sardonically at the vampire. “That all you got, lover?” she growled, spitting blood. “Give us your worst.”

Faith flew forward, a dizzying blur of furious punches and kicks, each landing soundly on her intended target. Angelus staggered backwards, alarmed by the speed and severity of the attack. He held his sword up, hoping to deflect the worst of the blows. The muscles in the dark slayer’s tightly toned thighs twitched and rippled under her leather pants as she readied her body. Jumping straight up in the air, her legs scissored out and a heavy boot connected with the side of Angelus’s vamped-out face. Blood splattered through the air as his elongated fangs cut into the insides of his mouth.

Recovering quickly, Angelus hefted his heavy weapon above his head and charged the young slayer again. The two grunted and groaned loudly above the shrieking and straining metallic cry of sword against scythe. Angelus’s sword caught in the curved blade of the slayer’s weapon. With a desperate tug, the vampire wretched the ancient weapon from the dark woman’s strong hands.

Thinking quickly, Faith crouched low and rolled forward in the direction of her discarded weapon. She scooped low and caught the familiar handle, once again secure in her palm, and brought it up towards her head to deflect another crashing blow by the soulless creature.

Faith pushed hard against her own weapon, causing Angelus to stumble backwards slightly. He rushed forward again, slicing his sword through the air, once again aiming for the Boston woman’s head. The Chosen One’s hand thrust up toward the offending blade and caught the weapon as it threatened to strike.

Angelus’s yellowed eyes opened wide in surprise. He stared in disbelief at the young slayer’s hand, which grasped tightly onto his weapon’s sharp blade. The metal sliced through the tender flesh, but the woman’s face belied the pain she was no doubt experiencing.

With her free hand, Faith flipped the scythe into the air, the metallic reds and silvers flashing against the overhead stadium lights. When it landed again in her open hand, the wooden stake was facing Angelus’s startled form, only inches from her own body.

“Oh shi—,” he started, before his undead body exploded into a cloud of fine brown dust. A mixture of screams and cheers filled the night sky as the air cleared in the space where Angelus had once existed.

Before Faith could raise her weapon in victory, the ground rumbled as if the stadium was experiencing indigestion, and they had the misfortune of standing at the epicenter.

“Earthquake,” Buffy gasped under her breath. She stood up quickly from her chair and stared desperately down at the center of the field where the dark slayer had fallen to her knees due to the shaking earth. “This is all too familiar and so not good,” the blonde mumbled.

The ground continued to shake, rendering it difficult for the small blonde slayer to make her way toward the stairs leading down to the field. “Gotta get down there,” she muttered to no one in particular. She could faintly hear her friends calling after her as she scrambled down the tall cement stairway.

Sounds of screaming filled the air. Buffy didn’t look to see where the screams were coming from. Her eyes were locked on the figure of the fallen slayer who continued to struggle to climb back to her feet as the ground began shaking even more violently underneath her.

And then, everything happened at once. The Death of Magic. Chaos filled the football stadium as the Hellmouth came to collect.

Twilight howled into the dark night sky as his minions began to crumble around him. No longer sustained by Amy’s magic, Warren finally succumbed to the wounds Willow had given him so many years ago. Amy wept bitterly as she clung onto the skinless form of her dead partner.

Gunn looked down in disbelief, as his skin began to blow away with the cool brisk Cleveland air, his flesh no more than dusty sand. “This can’t be good,” he quietly mumbled as he watched the flesh on his hand fade away to reveal the bone underneath. He jumped to his feet, but found himself unable to move. He could do nothing but stand uselessly as his skin continued to blow away with each gust of wind until he was nothing more than a bleached skeleton. The bones crumbled to the ground, shattering against the hard cement ground.

A wave of nausea washed over the blonde slayer as she reached the bottom of the cement stairs at the end of the grassy field. She felt to her knees, momentarily stunned by the sensation. From her seat above, Kennedy groaned loudly and clutched at her stomach. Willow grabbed onto her girlfriend’s arm, panic filling her eyes as she watched her girlfriend’s face turn ashen. Wesley faded away, disappearing completely.

A popping noise startled the small group. Dawn yelped as the water bubble around her suddenly burst. “Feet! I have feet again!” Her face went red. “And I’m suddenly very naked.” Xander quickly threw his jacket around the former mermaid’s midsection.

A large crack shattered through the thin night air as a rift in the earth formed at the center of the football field. Steam escaped from the ground like an active volcano readying to explode. Large purple tentacles reached up high into the sky. Deafening squeals, like slaughtered pigs, filled the air as the Cleveland Hellmouth spilled out of its earthen crypt.

Three dark tentacles reached for its prey, writhing and wiggling across the grassy field. Faith scrambled on her knees and elbows, frantically working to avoid the Hellmouth’s unwanted embrace. Rolling onto her back, the Boston slayer kicked out a heavy boot, connecting with one of the long arms. The creature screamed in pain, but continued its pursuit of the dark slayer.

Buffy clambered to her feet again, still feeling light-headed. She sprinted toward the center of the Hellmouth as it attempted to swallow her lover. She ran as quickly as her body could carry her, but her legs felt as though they were weighted down with sandbags. It was as if her feet were covered in large cement blocks – or as if she was no longer a Slayer.

Buffy dove forward towards the widening crevice, sliding across the turf on her stomach. She stretched her arm out until she grasped onto Faith’s thin wrist. “Buffy,” Faith rasped. Panic and fear filled the dark eyes of the Boston slayer as she gazed at her partner.

Buffy felt her body seize up suddenly. Black tendrils of smoke escaped from the blonde slayer’s mouth, ears, and eyes and she screamed in pain, but somehow kept her tight hold on the other woman’s arm. With every moment that passed, she felt the strength escaping her form. The Hellmouth was feeding on her, reclaiming her strength, sucking the Slayer’s essence from her small body. Faith’s body felt increasingly heavy, and the elder slayer felt her own body perspiring heavily from the effort.

“Faith,” Buffy gurgled out, her body straining to maintain her hold on the other woman. “I – I can’t…you’re slipping,” she whimpered, her body wasted and fatigued. The Hellmouth continued to scream and squeal, unrelenting in its quest to take the Boston-born slayer into its dark clutches.

Faith suddenly screamed out loud. The Hellmouth had pierced her calf with a spiked tendril. The creature’s long thorn was thrust entirely through the meat of her leg.

“Hold on to me,” Buffy pleaded, her voice little more than a low whisper.

Faith shrieked in pain as the Hellmouth began to retreat, the spike through her calf muscle twisting and tearing the flesh. She released her hold on the blonde slayer to hack at the attacking beast’s grasp, uselessly clawing at the spike in her leg.

Buffy screamed as she watched her lover’s form slide closer and closer to the mouth of the Hellmouth “Faith! No!” she cried out.

Robin rushed towards the two slayers and flopped to his stomach as if rescuing someone who had fallen through thin ice. In one hand he held the slayer scythe, which had fallen to the ground, unintentionally discarded in the chaos. He thrust it toward the brunette slayer for something to grab onto as she continued to be pulled closer to the Hellmouth’s epicenter. “Faith!” he called after her as she continued to slip away. She grasped uselessly at the wooden end of the scythe, her fingers just barely brushing against its tip.

“It’s…I can’t…too far,” she cried, her eyes wide and black with the horror of realization.

Robin and Buffy could only stare in shock as the formerly rogue slayer was swallowed whole by the earth. With a final effort, Faith clawed at the sides of the closing crevice, the turf crumbling in large chunks in her hands, until she slid out of sight. The grass-covered field shifted and groaned, and the last of the Hellmouth’s thick purple tentacles slid back into the ground. The earth patched itself over, as if no one had ever existed in that space.

The rest of the group slowly made their way over to Buffy and Robin. Kennedy staggered over to the center of the football field, helped by her redheaded girlfriend and the English Watcher. Xander and Riley helped the former mermaid awkwardly tread toward the fifty-yard line as well, her legs unaccustomed to walking again.

Twilight and his followers were gone.

“It’s…over,” Willow murmured, her soft voice piercing the silence. “We won.” Her words were full of wonder as she stared down at the space where Faith and Angelus had both once stood.

“We won?!” exploded the small blonde, still kneeling on the ground, oblivious to the grass stains on her jeans. “You call this a victory?”

The blonde slayer threw her head back and shrieked. Her body shook without control as she sobbed hysterically. She began clawing and uselessly tearing up the turf with her small hands.

“Buffy.” Giles reached out to touch his former Slayer as if to halt her frantic motions. “Angel is gone. He was never here,” he gently consoled. “That was just Angelus.”

Buffy snarled and slapped the English man’s helping hand away. “You think this,” she motioned at her body, indicating the pain branded onto her small form, “is about Angel? We have to get Faith back. I can’t lose her again.”

The group of friends stood awkwardly around the blonde who remained on her hands and knees in the grass. No one said a word. No one dared mutter a syllable.

Buffy wiped at her eyes uselessly, unable to keep up with the steady flow of tears. “I’m not going to let Faith rot in some Hell dimension.” Her voice was raw and unsteady.

“Buffy…it’s…over.” Dawn looked uneasily at her sister. “There was too much demon in her. She’s…she’s gone.” The former mermaid choked on a sob.

“No!” the Californian cried bitterly. “I won’t accept that.”

“Don’t you see, Buffy? This is what you do to alter the Future,” Giles exploded, his voice unusually angry. “If we open the Hellmouth, the demons come back. We’re not going to find her. That’s what creates the world you saw when you were kidnapped. No Slayers are Called because Faith has been banished – not dead.”

Buffy stared accusingly at her former Watcher. “You!” she accused manically, a finger pointed at the grave man. “You knew this was going to happen.”

Robin suddenly realized the implication of Giles’s words. “If open a portal and the demons come back, there’s no Guardian over the Hellmouth.”

“And even if we wanted to,” Willow added quietly, “we couldn’t open a portal. Magic…it…it doesn’t exist anymore.” She paused, thoughtful. “I don’t think I could even levitate a pencil.”

Buffy closed her eyes and shook her head hard. There were too many voices, too many words. None of it mattered anymore. “But I love her,” she rasped thickly.

“I know, Buffy.” Her redheaded friend tentatively placed a sympathetic hand on the former slayer’s slender shoulder. “We all loved her there at the end. She was a great leader. She sacrificed herself to save the world.”

“Willow! You don’t get it,” Buffy insisted, tears streaming down her tanned face. “I love Faith. With all of my heart, I love her.” She coughed violently for a moment, choking on her tears. A look of realization flashed across her friends’ faces during her silence.

“We have to get her back,” Buffy sobbed. “I don’t care if it ruins the Future. Let Fray deal with that. Without her…without Faith…” she gasped between tears, “there’s no future for me without her.”

++++++++++++++++++

FIN


End file.
